


This world is (ir)redeemable

by auriadne



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Content, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It of Sorts, Game Spoilers, Hand Jobs, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Slow Burn, Some fluff but then it gets angsty/ heavy, Time skip in epilogue, sexual content only in last chapter, shuake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-10-28 02:51:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10822206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auriadne/pseuds/auriadne
Summary: Against all odds, Akira is determined to break down Akechi's walls.





	1. This world is (ir)redeemable

**Author's Note:**

> Please, do not read this if you are not okay with spoilers for pretty much the whole game.  
> I repeat **SPOILERS**!  
>  This has to be the vaguest summary I've ever written, but I'm trying not to spoil things to passerbys like a good samaritan.  
> ....  
> Main Story: Chapters 1-7  
> Epilogue: Chapters 8 & 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real summary: Akira saves Akechi during their confrontation in Shido's palace and is determined to reconcile with him. However, things go awry.

The last thing Joker heard before the bulkhead slammed behind him was his friends yelling out his name. The second thing was Akechi’s voice, no longer was it that calm tone he’d become accustomed to over the past monthes. No, the second the Phantom Thieves encountered him in Shido’s palace, it contorted into something filled with malice and desperation.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The fallen detective seethed behind a grimace, as he clutched his bleeding side. The self-induced psychosis swirled behind his eyes, dark with rage. There was something different from before; it was more confused and to top it off _irritated_.

Joker said nothing, drawing himself to his feet and placing himself between Akechi and the gun his double held.

“I was going to sacrifice myself for you and your idiot friends, but you won’t even let me do that!”

“Shut up, Akechi.” Akira bit out, tossing a Takemedic back. The other stumbled for a moment in surprise before catching it. “I’m not giving up on you.” He shot older boy a determined glare. Akechi might have resigned himself to being ‘irredeemable’ and ‘undesirable’, but that was one of the many things they disagreed on.

Akira didn’t spend the months before his plotted murder getting to know the faux detective to leave him at the wayside now. Beneath the veneer of darkness, there was something in Akechi that was worth saving. He was sure of it.

The double didn’t agree and burst out into repulsive laughter. “You should. He’s likely to stab you in the back a second time. Literally.” The same twisted smile that Akechi had worn when he’d been shot contorted the doppelganger’s face from that of a pretty boy to a crazed killer.

Akira was going to snap back a retort, but Akechi beat him to it. “You don’t know me. Shido knows **nothing** about me!” _Oh fuck_. A shiver curled up his spine, when the brunette’s gloved hand gripped his shoulder in a vice. He hunched over, closer to Joker’s eye level, grabbing the edge of his black mask with a shaking hand. His unsteady breath came out in shallow pants. Out of the corner of his eye, Akira caught a glimpse of Loki materializing in their shared shadow.

Akechi grinned. He was riled up again. The only solace Joker found was that it wasn’t directed at him this time.

“Are you okay to fight?”

“Don’t patronize me.” The sneer on his face was cast in a red glow from the maragion Loki hurled towards the shadows surrounding the cognitive version of his self. The heat had Joker recoiling just in time to dodge a bullet that grazed the sleeve of his coat. Without a second thought, he shoved Akechi out of the way. He could take a hit, but Akechi- in his state- wouldn’t last long shot point blank.

“Kikuri-hime!” He called. The demon cast a quick tetrakarn on both boys, the magic barrier flicking up like a glimmering wall of water for the briefest of seconds. Joker could feel the other glaring at him- like casting a protective spell the most irritating thing he could do. Though there was no verbal complaint.

The cognitive Akechi scoffed when the real version’s saber singed the side of his jacket. Instead of recoiling, he grabbed the hilt- pulling Akechi down while driving the blade closer to himself. “Tch. Are you really going to fight together?” He scoffed. “This is your chance to end the Phantom Thieves. None of his friends are here. You could just-“ He pretend to shoot his gun with his free hand, mouthing the word _bam._ “Cut the snake off at the head.”

“Sorry.” The apology dripped from real version’s mouth with teeth bared. “I’ve picked my side. I’d rather die before crawling back to Shido.”

The fake looked directly at Joker with a smirk still whispering to his real self. “Don’t lie to him. You’d do anything to get in Shido’s good graces.”

Akechi jumped back as if scalded. “You’re wrong! You’re so, so wrong.” He hissed. “I only helped him so I could _end_ him. What he did to me- to my mother- is unforgivable, and he will receive just judgement.”

“Akechi…”

The fake rolled his neck and brushed the embers from his coat. “Then I suppose you’ve chosen death. Very well, if you’ve outlasted your usefulness to Shido then you have no reason to live.” The casualness of his tone was grating and had Akira firing a rain of shots so the double would just shut up. The last thing he needed was for the real Akechi to get even more mentally fucked over.

With a snap of his fingers the demons came at them full throttle. Akira came to realize that if he hadn’t acted so quickly to roll under the bulkhead that Akechi would have needed a miracle to make it out of this battle. For once he was grateful that he’d hoarded items before infiltrating the palace. It was a slow progress- Joker finding himself distracted and checking to make sure that Akechi didn’t keel over from an attack or just blood loss in the middle of the fight.

He was hanging in there somehow. They both were.

Over an hour passed since the bulkhead dropped. He wondered if the rest of the thieves were waiting for him or if they’d listened and fled the palace. Akechi cast desperation again, running to attack a Cerberus who dissipated into the air when its health dropped to zero.

All that left was the fake Akechi.

Realization that this was a losing battle dawned on the cognition’s face. “I might not make it out of this fight, but I can assure that only one of you will leave this room.” He emphasized by aiming the barrel of his gun between the two teens. It started to glow, and Akira could sense power amassing. The cognitive Akechi was charging up a one-hit kill attack. He paused with a smile, shifting the gun until it was Akira who stared down the barrel of it.

Akechi reacted first as the shot rang out, knocking him to the ground and taking his place as the attack landed. He screamed. Akira winced. He could hear blood dripping and Akechi’s voice cackling. Only he knew it wasn’t Akechi who was laughing now.

_Was it all for nothing?_

The scene he opened his eyes to was the properly dressed Akechi wearing a self-satisfied smirk and crumpled next to Joker’s feet was the real one. His blood ran cold- was this how it was destined to end- no matter his intervention Akechi would die?

It seemed unfair. As unfair as this game had always been.

“Recarm.” He whispered, hoping it would do some good as the dark body next to him was engulfed in a green shower of sparkles.

Nothing.

Joker gulped. His eyes darting towards the other Akechi with newfound resolve. “Oh! Did I make you mad? Sorry, but if you thought he was ever going to be you friend, you must be even more of a moron than I thought.” Akira blinked, body practically moving on its own. The knife that pierced the side of the doppelganger’s neck felt heavy. He blinked again. Nausea came over him at the sight of the dark blood covering his hands. The body of Akechi’s double was lifeless in his arms.

_What had he done?_

He staggered back as if stung, falling backwards to the ground as the cognitive Akechi slumped to the ground. He’d seen Akechi die by his own hands. Even though it was the fake, it still had his face, and it horrified him to his core.

Akira shook his head in an attempt to steel his nerves. This was the last place to freak out. Mustering his will, he scrambled to the true Akechi’s side. Blood had pooled on the ground, but it appeared to have clotted at his side.

Maybe the spell had done something afterall. “Please be alive.” He muttered under his breath while trying to find his pulse.

“Ha.” Akira nearly jumped for joy. “You’re the only person to ever hold that sentiment.” A small grin crossed Akechi’s face, but returned to a wince when he groaned.

He was alive. That was something at least.

“Shut up. You’re hurt. I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

* * *

 

“AKIRA!” Said boy was almost tackled to the ground by Ryuji’s enthusiastic hug when they entered the real world. All his friends had been waiting outside the diet building this whole time.

“Careful!” Makoto scolded him when Akechi- who Akira was supporting with one arm- grimaced as he was jostled to the side.

“Oh shit, you actually did it. He’s back?” Ryuji stepped back, sounding slightly disappointed. Ann hit him in the arm with a hissed out _shh._

Akira ignored the remark, turning to the others. “I need to get him to Tae’s clinic fast. I think he’s lost a lot of blood.”

Makoto had her phone out in a second. “I’ll call my sister.”

Akira nodded. _Thank god for Makoto_. She didn’t linger when things needed to be done. If he wasn’t the leader, he’d say that she’d make a good replacement.

The others were clustered together some distance away, but he could tell they were watching- likely still feeling trepidation at welcoming the traitor back into their midst. “Just leave me. I’m a stain on your perfect party of do gooder friends.” Akechi finally muttered weakly under his breath.

Akira shook his head. “You’re coming with me. I won’t let you bleed out on the street.”

“Aren’t you worried what they’ll think? You’re practically siding with the enemy.”

“You’re not my enemy, Akechi. We want the same thing. We just have- ah- different ways of going about it.”

He let out a soft chuckle that morphed into a pained wheeze. “That’s putting it lightly.”

Akira didn’t understand why he felt so compelled to help Akechi. It could be that he saw a bit of himself in the broken, twisted boy. It was the same reason the others sympathized with him, even after what he did. There was also the fact that he couldn’t stand the thought of not being able to save him. Maybe it was some savior complex he had. It would certainly explain how he jumped into this Phantom Thieves business so quickly. Not to mention, he supposed he grew a soft spot for the detective over the past months. One that was strong enough that his betrayal wasn’t the end all for the strange relationship they shared.

Maybe it was a bit of all of the above.

He dropped Akechi off at Taekmi’s, holding onto the hope that he wouldn’t run off after getting treatment. Sae warned him to be careful with Akechi. He knew she meant well, so did all his teammates. Yet he was the only person who had ever been able to break past Akechi’s shell. There was no way in hell he was going to give up after getting this far.

Akira tried to clear his mind, focusing on the mundane task of scrubbing dishes. It was hard to ignore the inklings of worry- that maybe even after all this- he never truly got through to Akechi.

Morgana perched on the counter next to him, blue eyes hesitant. “Are you sure about this?” He asked.

Akira nodded.

“If anyone can help him, it’s you. It won’t be easy. I could smell distortion on him. Be careful.” The _of course_ was unspoken. Morgana hopped down. “I guess I’ll head over to Futaba’s. Good luck, Akira.”

His phone buzzed a few hours later with a text from Tae when he was in the middle of making coffee. She’d just released Akechi. He hadn’t wanted to force this- to treat Akechi with the distrust he deserved. That would only fuel his cycle of disdain and distaste for others and his own self. What Akira wanted was for him to abandon his own brand of revenge and prove that he was committed to the redemption he sought in their last battle. It was a test to see if Akechi’s intentions were authentic, or if it was some ploy to clear his conscious in his last hours.

It appeared to be the former, as Akira whipped his head expectantly to twinkling of the bell on Leblanc’s doorway.

“You came.” He tried to sound restrained, though his expression was all but that.

“Don’t act like it’s something sentimental.” Akechi scoffed. He was limping slightly, and Akira could see the white of the bandages under his clothes that patched up his numerous injuries created from his cognitive self and Akira’s own hands.

His eyes flicked back up to Akechi’s brown ones, and he leaned an arm on the counter. “I’m happy.”

“And I thought I was the crazy one.” He murmured. “I thought I understood you, Akira. It seems you’ve proved me wrong on more than one occasion.”

“Is that a bad thing?” The brunette hummed thoughtfully in response, pulling himself onto the barstool next to the dark haired teen. Akira tried not to let it show how the proximity and the importance of the conversation was making him nervous.

A silence fell between them. The void was filled with all the important things that needed to be said between them. Akira didn’t even know where to begin. Instead he pressed a warm cup of coffee into the other’s hands. “I remember how you like it.” It was almost a near whisper. Akechi’s fingers twitched, and his head dipped lower.

He waited for Akechi to make fun of him because he was being damn sentimental. This time he didn’t. His gloved hand tightened around the handle, taking a long drink before setting down the mug and letting his eyes bore into the leader of the Phantom Thieves’.

“What do you want from me? Why save me? Why keep me around? You don’t need to do this.”

“I wanted to-“ It seemed so simple to him.

Akechi interjected sharply, not standing for some simple answer. “But **why**? All I’ve done is hurt and deceive you. You can’t be friends with me. You never were. The Akechi you knew before was a fake.”

Akira remember him, every interaction, every ‘accidental’ run in. Sure, the cheerfulness was an act. But Akira was loath to believe their every interaction was disingenuous. Some of what he experienced had to be the true Akechi.

“I don’t care.”

“Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?” The older bit out, breaking away from Akira’s gaze.

“You won’t hurt me again.” The determination in his voice set off something within the other.

“I would have killed you if you hadn’t tricked me! You don’t know that I wouldn’t try again.”

“I don’t. I’m choosing to believe in you. I don’t think you’re inherently a bad person.”

“I am. This world stole any chance of goodness from me ages ago.” _I’m disgusting._ Akechi muttered hands gripping the edge of the bar so tight his knuckles turned white.

In his time in Tokyo, Akira had helped many people with their personal problems. Those were all easy fixes, one person doing something bad to hurt others. A quick change of heart in Mementos could clear up that anguish.

Akechi was another story.

Changing Shido’s heart might help, but it wouldn’t fix things in the long run. Shido was the base of his hardship, though it wasn’t the only factor. He had a mother who couldn’t get past her relationship with the politician. Who killed herself for it, abandoning her son. A society that demonized the children of affairs. A father that would only ever treat him like dirt. Not to mention, hopping around foster homes, having no real place of belonging, or true connections to people. And since being praised as the newfound Detective Prince, adults had been clamoring to use him for their own gain. There were too many things that had fucked Akechi up over his short lifetime, perverting his view of the world and of himself.

It would have been so easy to let himself fall down that hole too and become disenchanted with the world in its entirety. Where Akechi’s worldview was founded on despair, Akira’s was built on hope. There was no way he could fix it. All he could do was show Akechi that there’s good in the world too- that it’s a place worth saving.

Akira smiled slightly. “If you really thought that, you wouldn’t be here now.”

He saw the tiniest crack behind those eyes. “You’re an idiot for trusting me.”

“I’ll gladly be an idiot, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super interested in the Akira/ Akechi dynamic. Particularly in the context of how other shin megami tensei games handles chaos/law worldviews- they don't fit perfectly but i think theres inklings of the themes. The potential outcomes of the /game/ actually remind me of the smt4 law/chaos routes.


	2. (Un)changable

“I should go.”

Akira caught Akechi’s arm as he stood up, letting out a sharply exhaled, “Wait.” The other glared daggers into the hand holding onto him like it was the most offensive thing. Akira stumbled to justify his split reaction. “You’re hurt. You shouldn’t have to walk all the way back to your apartment.”

This whole thing felt too precarious. Akechi was hanging onto the Phantom Thieves- and any hope of goodness- by a thread, and Akira was that very thread. Any misstep could cause it to snap, and then the older boy would be lost to them forever.

Akechi snatched his arm from Akira’s grasp, drawing it to his chest. “I’m perfectly capable of calling a cab.” The expression that crossed his face was one of suspicion. He could sense the lie Akira had given without thought. Of course, he could. He was practically a master of it, having lied for most of his life.

“Fine. That’s not it.” Akira acknowledged. The truth was more personal, but then again that’s what he wanted from this- to deepen what bond they shared? “If you go back, it’d be to an empty apartment, right? I don’t want you to in that situation- to have to be alone again.”

“Alone again?” Akechi tutted with a self-deprecating edge that made the leader of the Phantom Thieves cringe. “You want to fix that? So what, are you planning to stay by my side of the rest of my life?”

“If that’s what you need. Yes.” Only after he had said it, did Akira feel a little remorse, mostly because of how easily something that embarrassing came out of his mouth. He shook it off. “Why not stay? You said before that you felt comfortable here.”

Akira had a hard time grasping that those few moments they shared in this place were fake. In Leblanc, Akira thought, things had been different. Akechi had shown vulnerability. He hadn’t been in the prying eyes of the public- in front of the people he wanted to impress. It had just been _himself_ and a very tired boy who appeared to take solace in the weekly Featherman episode, a cup of warm coffee, and the presence of someone willing to listen.

Akechi’s eyes widened with the spread of a slight flush across his cheeks. Akira couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied to elicit that kind of reaction. “You’re nothing, if not tenacious. I suppose I should expect that from you now, but you still manage to catch me off guard.”

“I want to subvert your expectations of me.” He grinned, leaning even closer into the conversation. This was almost banter. This was something he could get used to. “You don’t need to live that life anymore. Plus, I would feel better if I knew that you weren’t bleeding out by yourself.”

Akechi laughed lightly, stifling the noise behind his hand.

Akira’s ears perked at it; could that have possibly been authentic? There was no reason for him to lie now; and it was almost familiar. Akira was sure he’d heard Akechi laugh like that before when it was just the two of them talking in the coffee shop.

Before everything went to shit.

Realization dawned on the brunette’s face, and his whole demeanor shifted. “We’re **not** friends.” He emphasized clearly. Sterner now that he was obviously trying widen the distance between them.

Akira was having none of it. “That doesn’t mean we can’t become friends. You’ve let down your mask the around me before. I want the chance to know the real you.”

“You don’t. You shouldn’t. I’m not a good person.”

 _This again._ Akira didn’t know what to do to prove to Akechi that there was something still good left in him. That he was worthy of having someone care about him. “So? You’re not going to turn me away with that.”

The older teen averted his eyes, jaw clenched. “I’m not some problem you can fix.”

“I don’t want to fix you.” Akira frowned. He was so adamant that no one could love- or even like- him. It’s no wonder he had a fucked up view of the world. “All I want to do is help. If I can do that in any way, this will be worth it.”

“It would be easier for both of us if you just gave up.”

“I can’t do that, Akechi. We’ve shared too much. I want you to see that there’s still a path of redemption left for you. You can’t right what you did, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do good now and that you aren’t worth love.”

He hit the nail on the head. Akechi went rigid. For a split second the wall crumbled, a torn expression crossing the brunette’s face. He attempted to covered it with his hand, but it was too late. Years of yearning and working for an affection he would never get took its toll.

His burden was masked again when he withdrew his hand. The façade came back stronger than ever and was entirely, unsettlingly blank. “I’ll try it your way for now. You saved my life. Its more than anyone else has done for me in the past.”

The emptiness behind his words wasn’t reassuring. However, it was baby steps with Akechi. Akira would count this as a win.

* * *

 

Akira jolted up from the futon in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, gasping in an unsteady breath. Even now, in the dim light of his room, he could still smell the stench of iron and feel the cold edge of his dagger. The visage of Akechi covered in blood, eyes lifeless yet somehow still smirking, was burned into his mind.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Nothing in the palaces had tormented him at night before. Perhaps it was because this time the distortion was a mirror of reality. Cognitive Akechi wasn’t some sentient mass of paintings or bug monster. He just looked like normal Akechi. Killing him left an imprint on Akira’s mind. He looked down to shaking hands. It felt so real. The grooves on the hilt of the phantom dagger pressed into his palm, as if he was holding it in reality.

Akira shuddered, trying to steel his nerves.

“If you’re trying to be discreet, it’s not working.” The mass buried under the blankets on his bed mumbled, shifting slightly so Akechi’s bedraggled head peaked out from the blankets. “Dream? I’ve been having strange recurring ones lately- something to do with a blue room…”

“Nightmare.” The younger corrected.

“Ah, you’re not as infallible as you come off.” That comment irked him. “I could pretend to be like you and ask about it.”

Akira ignored the prod at his own nosy tendencies. He stared up at the ceiling, where cobwebs were reflecting the light from the alley. His face scrunched up as it was disconcerting to admit. “I killed you.”

The brunette cleared his throat and said dryly. “Well that’s pleasant.”

“I really did. Back in the palace. Your double. I stabbed him through the neck. I had your blood on my hands. I saw you **die**.”

It felt better to get it in the open with the only person who could relate. “I wonder if it’s just coincidence.” Akechi muttered to himself. Their paths paralleled each other’s in a near scary synchrony. Akechi shot the cognitive Akira, and not a month later Akira stabbed the cognitive Akechi. It was a give and take- with this being far more of the _taking_ side.

It was further proof that they were irreparably linked. Both boys’, lives were turned to shambles by the same man; and they gained the same power to wield multiple personas.

It was peculiar, if not suspicious.

“I saw you too. The first nights after I shot you. It didn’t fill the void like I thought it would. It just made me feel dirty.” Akira didn’t know what to say to that so he stayed quiet. Akechi filled the silence with a comment he never expected. “If it makes you feel better, I’m here because you killed the fake me. I hate to admit it, but I’m grateful for that.”

* * *

 

The leader of the Phantom Thieves tugged his hood further down to obscure his face as his best friend continued to freak out- and draw attention- over the new situation with the traitor of the Phantom Thieves. Ryuji’s hand slammed on the table, and several of the surrounding customers glanced their way. “Dude, I can’t believe you’re letting him stay at Leblanc! How are you even able to sleep after all that? Do you have amnesia? Remember that time he tried to **shoot** you in the face?”

“Yeah. I was there.” He deadpanned.

“Come on, Ryuji. Akira knows what he’s doing.” Ha, he wished he had as much faith in himself as Ann did.

Ryuji looked at Ann. “I just don’t get how it doesn’t bother him. It ain’t even my life on the line, and its driving me crazy.”

Their burgers were left uneaten for the sake of dealing with the big topic of the day: Goro Akechi. The two went back and forth talking about Akira like he wasn’t at the table too. He toyed with the straw of his Dr. Salt NEO.

“I’m still here.” Akira commented at length.

Their attention shifted back to the black-haired teen. “It does seem kind of dangerous to be sharing a room with him. He did try to kill us yesterday.” Ann commented lowly. The concern evident on her face.

“The only thing I have to bargain with is my trust and friendship. I can’t let him slip back into that dark place. Not when there’s a chance I can bring him back from it.”

“Hey, ya know, it’s not your responsibility to fix every person we come across.” Ryuji was still unconvinced that the leader’s actions were the right path. The blonde boy took a long, slurping drink of his milkshake.

“I know. I want to help Akechi. I feel a connection to him.”

Ann shifted in her seat. “If it’s what you want…”             

“It is.”

She met him full on with determination. “Then I support you.”

Ryuji jolted, astonished with how quickly she jumped ship. “Hey! That’s all it takes for you to be okay with this?”

“It’s Akira’s decision. I respect that.” She retorted and was met with a grumble.

“Thanks, Ann.” The support made him feel warm. It wasn’t the easiest thing to grasp or justify to the others (particularly to Haru). This was a difficult situation, but knowing she backed him up helped.

Even Ryuji begrudgingly accepted the fact that they were going to be seeing more of the Detective Prince then he wanted. “Ugh, fine. I’ll watch your back, bro.”

* * *

 

The next day, Akechi was in Leblanc, nose buried in a book in the last booth. There was something about the glow of the lights, the strong scent of coffee, and the sight of the boy unguarded and peaceful that made Akira feel warm- comfortable even. This feeling could be what Akechi had referred to before, assuming it wasn’t part of his act.

“Honey, I’m home.” He joked while he sidled into the booth across from the older teen.

Akechi didn’t budge, but the corners of his mouth twitched up in a weak semblance of amusement. “You can’t use that line on me twice, you know. It loses its impact.”

Akira stuck out his tongue.

“How are you feeling? When you’re back to normal, I’ll look into to sending our last calling card. We still have time so there’s no rush.”

He set down the book, eyeing the curly haired teen with a piercing scrutiny. “You shouldn’t be so casual about this. Shido is a terrible man.”

“I know. But I’m not going to put anyone at undue risk for it- that includes you. Which brings me back to my first question: how are you?”

“Not terrible.” His hand immediately rubbed a spot on his arm that Akira knew was covered in a mottled bruise. “That doctor of yours is really something. The medicine she’s concocted packs a punch. In a few days, I should be useful to you guys.”

“Okay, then. In the meantime-“ His words were cut off by a growling sound. A look of mild irritation crossed Akechi’s face.

“I’m not fond of curry for every meal.” He gave in an aside.

“In the meantime,” Akira repeated, extracting himself from the booth. The hand he extended was ignored as expected. He didn’t let that bother him, hitting Akechi with a trademarked _debonair_ level smile. “We’re going to get food.”

The irony of having a lunch date with his attempted murderer was not lost on him.  

This was further expounded upon by how adorable Akechi looked, all red faced from the cold and bundled like a marshmallow in a pile of Akira’s clothing. His face was buried in one of Akira’s navy knit scarves, and he was swathed in one of Akira’s heavier puffy coats as they trudged through the snow covered streets. Akira snuck a glance. Heat rose to his face and fogged his glasses when Akechi met his eyes so he pretended to be distracted by the storefronts.

He had totally _not_ been staring.

Okay, maybe he had been and maybe the older boy draped in his clothes made him feel things. _Unsettling, dangerous things._ He did his best to shove those thoughts to the back of his mind. He might joke that this was a date, but it was definitely- no- **never** could be one.

That thought was trashed when the restaurant Akechi chose was something akin to Ann’s tastes. A pretty little café enveloped in a warm haze and drenched in the scent of chocolate. Akechi scoffed. “Don’t look at me like that. I never get to pick, and no adult would be caught dead here.” Akira shrugged with a grin. Given the chance, the Detective Prince was more multifaceted than first impressions would give him.

Akira burst out laughing in the café when he ordered pancakes because _of course_ he would. Akechi glowered. “What’s so funny?” Oh. **Oh.** He doesn’t know.

Akira leaned his head on his hand with a sly smile. “Maybe it’s divine intervention that you have a fondness for pancakes. It was the only way we knew that you had been to the Metaverse before. Without that you might have been able to kill me in the end.”

It was kind of unsettling that the one the reasons Akira still had his life was because this guy liked pancakes. Though he was sure more inconsequential things had an even greater impact on his life.

“Are you serious?” He frowned deeply, mostly at the thought of being so transparent. Then the light went off, and he groaned. “That time at the TV studio. That was before I ever even suspected you…” He shook his head. “I realize it now, but it might have been better that I failed both times. If I hadn’t I would never- ah never mind. I’m speaking too freely.”

“What?” Akechi’s fingers thrummed against the table, and he glanced out to the busy winter street when their hot drinks were served to the table. Akira eagerly took a sip of his tea, observing the other’s actions carefully. This finally felt like he was getting somewhere.

Akechi was resigned with a hesitance uncharacteristic for him. “I would never be here with you.” The admission was a major win. Akira smirked, and the brunette shot him an indignant glare. “Don’t let it go to your head. It perplexes me even now.”

“Fate’s tied us together.”

“If you believe in such childish things.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

Akira’s words rang true. Akechi took a thoughtful drink in a sort of reserved acceptance. Their food was eaten in relative silence. Akechi seemed to be stuck in his own mind, far too used to eating his meals alone. Akira could relate.

The teen detective’s thoughts came to a stand still, and he made a little frown. “I don’t understand it.” Akira’s attention darted immediately to the other boy. “How we’re so similar, yet we ended up so differently. You were abandoned by your parents and used by adults just like I was. Yet at the same time, you had everything I always wanted. People that loved and cared about you. A place to belong. I’ve always been envious. That’s how I convinced myself to follow through with Shido’s orders.”

There were similarities there, yes. But the trauma and hardship from Akechi’s childhood colored the direction the rest of his life would go. Though he would deny it, Akira doubted he ever got over being abandoned by his parents or society, understandably.

Akechi’s voice shifted into one of mock anger. “Why should you have everything I wanted. Ha, it was worse because you gave me a taste of it. That’s why I-” His voice faltered. Facing and berating his previous self was a hard fought battle for Akechi. It was obvious that it drained his psyche. All of this made Akira wish they weren’t somewhere so public for this discussion. At the same time, he felt almost happy that the other was putting this trust in him. “That’s why I was willing to sacrifice myself for your ideals.”

It was a soft admission, almost whispered. Akira grabbed his hand from across the table. He held it in both of his, trying to reassure the troubled teen that he was **not** alone- physically and verbally. “You don’t need to do that anymore. You’re not acting alone. I’m with you.”

This action flustered Akechi likely a product of being starved of any sign of affection for so long. “You-“ His voice shook with something between anger and desperation.

He recoiled away from Akira quickly.

Akira paid it no mind.

“I want you to work with us again. It might take some time for the others to come to terms with it, but you were one of us before. You could be that again. I hope you’ll consider it; that way you can get your revenge on Shido, on my terms.” He offered in earnest.

“How can you-“ Akechi was still shaken, until he took a breath to compose himself. “Okay. Okay, I’ll think about it. At the very least to see Shido’s palace to the end.”

Akira smiled. “That’s all I can ask for.”


	3. This world is (not) black and white

The first thing Akira heard when he entered Leblanc was something crashing to the floor above their heads. Mona’s ears perked up. “That came from the attic. Hurry!” He ordered from the confines of Akira’s bag, squirming until he was able to jump out and dash his way up the stairs.

Akira followed suit.

The sound of anguish, a culmination of fury and frustration, preceded the scene set before him. A phone was thrown to the ground, screen lit but shattered into pieces from the impact. Some of the items Akira had collected from Tokyo were scattered as well, a casualty of whatever happened. In the middle of it all was Akechi, collapsed to his knees on the ground. He was muttering something over and over to himself, hands gripping the sides of his head.

Morgana approached the other boy carefully, tail fuzzed out.

“Akechi…” Mona attempted in consolation.

The boy lashed out in an instant, glaring at the cat. His face wrenched with emotion- distorted like it had been when he revealed his true self. “I don’t need sympathy from some stupid cat!” He shouted, coiling in on himself in a weak attempt at protection.

Morgana’s ear laid back flat. “I **am** not a stupid- “Akira held a finger over his lips, nodding to Morgana to show that he would handle this. It didn’t take much convincing, and the cat listened and trailed back downstairs just as Akira sat on the floor to face Akechi.

With trepidation, Akira reached out. His fingers grazed Akechi’s shaking frame. The brunette jerked back, flinching from the touch as if in pain. He was like a nerve exposed. All sensitive and raw, agonized and infuriated by every touch and every word “I don’t need sympathy from you either…” This time words rung hollow.

His eyes were red, wet as if on the verge of tears, though there was a fire behind them that revealed his true feelings.

“What happened?” Akira asked softly, folding his arms across his knees.

“To the point as always.”

“Only if you want to tell me.” Akechi’s hand tightened against his sleeve, pulling at the fabric to distract himself. It took a moment for him to come to terms with telling the younger teen the truth.

“Shido called.” It was a flat admission.

“And what did he say?”

“He wanted me to take care of some of his lackeys that know a little too much about what goes on behind closed doors.” The wryness in his voice covered up the underlying torment the situation caused.

Akira’s stomach dropped. He hoped dearly that there was no pull back to his previous life as an assassin. No matter how hard he tried, the concern was apparent on his face.

Akechi frowned, likely assuming Akira was worried about a repeat of his betrayal.  “I refused- made up some excuse to not draw too much attention.” He groaned again, punching the floor bluntly with his knuckles. “It pisses me off so much. If I’m not at his beck and call, I’m **nothing** to him. How can he forget so easily that I’m the one who got him to where he is?”

“He’s an asshole who used you.” Used the unstable teen who was primed and susceptible for playing right into Shido’s hands.

“Still using me.” Akechi corrected with a dark humor. This wasn’t the least bit amusing. How many lives could Shido fuck up and destroy without any retribution? “He threatened me with blackmail if I don’t take care of his problem by election day. So I suppose I’ll be taking you up on your offer.” Akechi finally looked him in the eye, but it wasn’t gratifying at all because the smile he gave was terrifying and heartbreaking. The expression fell almost immediately, as what little Akechi was keeping it together began to crumble away. “I can’t believe I let myself be so blind. Contentedly, doing his dirty work for the sake of revenge. What a naïve dream.”

Akira leaned closer, brow furrowed as he tried to do something to assure the older boy. Though, even now, Akira was beginning to doubt if he was capable of helping at all. “This isn’t your fault.”

The sentiment he offered was shot down instantly. “It is. What I did in hopes of revenge has only tainted me further.” He started laughing the same repulsive laugh that came from his cognitive double. Each laugh shook his body in an unnerving, creepy manner.

“Akechi.” His appeal fell on deaf ears, and the other boy continued.  It was manic. All existence of the person he wanted to save was dominated by this self-hating, nihilistic shadow of Goro Akechi. He grabbed the older’s shoulders, steadying him. “Akechi, stop!”

The brunette’s head rose, bangs moving from his obscured eyes. His head cocked to the side, confused by the concern the curly haired teen was showing him. The grin he gave Akira made him shiver. “It’s just like before. I’m worthless.”

It was empty so, so empty. This Akechi was worse than the one that envied him to near hatred. At least then, there was something there. The hollow Akechi in front of him struck a chord with the black haired teen, getting under his skin like no one before. “Stop it!”

Akira had never mustered up a voice quite so loud, and it surprised the fallen detective. What surprised him more was when Akira pulled Akechi to him, silencing his mantra of deprecation. “Wha-what are you-“The older froze in his grasp, arms falling stiff to his sides as the younger hugged him.

“I can’t stand to hear to you talk like that. No matter what else anyone says, you are not worthless. You matter. At the very least to me.” He spoke lowly- breath warm, and a little too intimate, against the brunette’s neck.

Akechi was shaken.

“No, no, no. This isn’t what I should-“ He shoved against Akira, putting up more a show than actually trying. His hands fisted in the front of Akira’s sweater as his voice cracked. “Why are you doing this? Let me go.”

Akira held him at a distance, to look him in the eye. “I want you here. You have a place here.” Just from the hand that gripped Akechi’s arm- Akira could feel the tremor that wracked his body. He looked unfocused, eyes glazed over slightly. “Akechi?”

“You’re not lying to me?” He said in a peculiar tone.

“Never.”

“How can you get to me like this.” He mumbled under his breath like it was something Akira wasn’t supposed to hear. The taller boy’s forehead met Akira’s shoulder, and he slumped into his arms in resignation. “I’ve always been a burden or a tool.” He muttered against the fabric of his sweater. “I’ve carefully curated all my traits to avoid and excel at those two things. Even then, no one’s ever treated me like you, and you’ve seen me at my worst.”

“You are **not** nothing- no matter what Shido or anyone else says. The good and the bad, they’re both a part of you; but it doesn’t mean you have to continue down the same path.”

“You truly believe that.”

“I do.”

“You make me wish I could live up to those expectations.”

“You can. You and me, we can fix this world.”

* * *

 

The game was subverted. This was an outcome that had not been anticipated.

It was constructed in a series of dichotomies.

_Win or lose._

_Black or white._

_Chaos or law._

_Rehabilitation or rebirth._

_Akira Kurusu or Goro Akechi._

Reality painted it gray. There were no sides and no game any longer.

* * *

 

The soft chords of a piano reverberated off concrete, finally bringing the Trickster to consciousness. A familiar haze enveloped his mind and dulled his senses. The pulsation in his brain had Akira jolting upward from the hard bed in his cell.

The Velvet Room, but _why_?

Caroline and Justine flanked the door to his cell. Through the opening, he could make out someone else in the Velvet Room. Akira threw himself at the bars, “Stand back, inmate!” Caroline scolded, slamming her baton against the bars with the piercing screech of metal on metal. 

This drew the attention of Igor, as well as the figure he’d seen before. He recognized the boy instantly.

“Akechi! What are you doing here?”

Justine narrowed her eyes and reprimanded him in a calmer tone than her sister. “Quiet! Do not interrupt our master’s conversation.”

The Akechi in the room, turned to look at him. He was dressed differently than last, in his full Detective Prince attire. He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Although from your reaction, I’d surmise that you are familiar with this place too.”

The master of the Velvet Room interrupted with his booming voice. “Ah yes, you both hold the power of the Wild Card and, therefore, have access to the resources the Velvet Room provides. Yet only one of you has been able to master the use and fusion of multiple personas.” Igor looked directly at him, and Akira noticed Akechi tense up. The otherworldly being tapped his long, spindly fingers on the desk. “I’ve brought you here for… an exchange.”

Akechi’s attention was drawn from the leader of the Phantom Thieves. “An exchange?”

“Yes. I am offering the power, which our inmate has mastered. Only Loki and Robin Hood have manifested in your soul of your own volition. If you were to acquire control over more persona, no doubt your power would increase exceptionally. I can assist you in achieving the same power, which he commands.”

Akira frowned, hands tightening on the bars. Something about this seemed very _off._ Almost shady. The worse part was that Akechi seemed interested. The older boy brought his hand to his chin in thought. “There’s always a catch. What do you want?”

Igor interlinked his fingers with a cryptic air to him. “It’s simple really. To reinstate the game.” _The game?_ Justine and Caroline shared a glance between them, looking a little perplexed just as Akira was. “You see, a problem has arisen.” Igor stared down the bridge of his long nose right into the Trickster’s very soul. Uneasiness coiled in Akira’s stomach, fueled by the sense of malintent and great power. The next statement was aimed directly at hm. “Your rehabilitation cannot include reconciliation.”

Akira’s head hurt.

Akechi’s voice cut through. “This game you referred to, what is it?”

“It is of no consequence.” Igor brushed off. Akira gripped his head, suddenly feeling dizzy. “However, there is an opportunity that I have laid out for you, should you accept this trade.” Igor’s hand hovered over the desk for a brief moment and a paper and quill materialized. “A contract. Power- enough to overcome the obstacles that you face. In exchange- you shall pursue your own justice.”

Like before.

Realization hit the Phantom Thieves’ leader. He tried to call out to Akechi, but it voice was silenced by a strange force. If Akechi accepted, he would be lost to him forever. All that happened between them would have been for naught.

Brown eyes glanced back to him but looked right through him. “I’ll do it.”

Akira’s blood ran cold.

He swiped the quill from the table. The thing Akira didn’t notice was the slight quiver in his hand.

“Very well. This truly is the ideal course.” A pleased grin curled on Igor’s face.

The contract was brought before Akechi, but he hesitated. The pen rested mere inches from the paper. Akira watched with a sharp precision.

Akechi bit his lip, grip tightening around the quill until it snapped. He let the halves clattered to the floor, watching it in a silent disbelief. “What have you done to me, Akira.” He commented faintly. The muttered indecision transformed into rebellion when Akechi shot Igor an expression of determination. “I can’t sign this. No, me and him, our goals are one in the same. I won’t use him and toss him aside like adults have done to me. I refuse your contract.”

The contract disappeared. “How disappointing.” The aura changed into something more dangerous. It hit the Trickster like a gust of wind. “So be it. Caroline. Justine. Release the inmate.”

In a flash of light, the bars that closed him in disappeared. Akira staggered forth in the open room for the first time. Akechi turned on his heel. His face was calm, but Akira could tell that he was unsettled.

“This is quite the turn of events. You live up to the moniker of the Trickster. Nevertheless, my hope for humanity has waned now that the game is forfeit.” Igor gave a small gesture. A dark, swirling hole widened in the floor below him, dark tendrils of the unknown licking at his feet. Akira attempted to jump back, but Justine held him in place.

“What is this?” Both boys asked some version of the same question at the troubling thing spreading on the ground beneath them.

“Your penance.”

Then both Wild Cards were thrown into the dark abyss.


	4. I have (no) worth in this world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its going to get a lot weirder/ darker for a few chapters.  
> (tw for mentioned canon suicide)

Akira came to in the darkness of an unfamiliar room. It was bleak, covered in a haze that was both heavy and unsettling. An unnatural warmth permeated the area like a fog. All this contrasted with its rather mundane appearance.

It felt like the Metaverse. The power of Akira’s personas flickered like a fire smoldering in the back of his mind. Yet somehow this was different from his previous experiences in the other dimension. Before in Palaces, the distortions had been extreme and otherworldly- flooded cities, space stations, and medieval castles.

This appeared to be the opposite.

His brain pulsated with a sharp pain. The hand he brought to his head hit something solid… his mask? Glancing down he saw familiar red gloves and the tail of his long black coat. The thief gear?

_What was going on?_

What happened before came back to him in a flash. _The scene in the Velvet Room._ He’d thought it was a dream. It felt like one.

However, the barren room, only broken up with one door and one window, was very real. He could feel his heart thrumming in his chest, speeding up from the uncertainty of the situation, and the pressure weighing down his body and mind.

Questions raced across his mind: What was this place? Why had Igor tossed them in? And more concerningly, what did he mean by _their_ _penance_?

And if he was here, then…

He looked around frantically to no avail. Akira was very much alone. Though he swore he saw the other boy fall in too back in the Velvet Room. He chewed his lip. Being alone here, the thought was not comforting. The confidence he usually exuded around the rest of the Phantom Thieves was lost to his own uncertainty.

The faint sound of a woman’s voice interrupted his thoughts. It was far away- a soft humming that cut through the silence like a knife. It was the only lead, and he chased after it, leaving through the door.

It opened up to a narrow hallway flanked with two other doors. At the end, the stairs descended into shadows.

Joker pushed the door to his left ajar. Light broke past the crack creating a line of white against the darkness. The source was a small lamp, in a rather ordinary looking bedroom. He took one step into the room. It was furnished with the necessities, a bed, a dresser, and a table. There was no evidence that the space was lived in nor was there an ounce of personal touches.

Something stood out among the plainness. Two toys laid in the floor. Akira recognized them instantly- a child’s action figures of Red Hawk and Black Condor. The red one was worn- scuffed and paint faded from use- while the other still looked new.  

It was a strange thing to find here.

A voice called out behind him, and he nearly dropped them to the ground. “How could you do this to me?” He whipped around. There was nothing but empty air. Now, the door across from him stood wide open; and in the distance, he heard footfalls descending down the stairs.

His hair stood on end.

This was too much. Who knew what kind of power the mysterious Velvet Room operator had at his fingertips.

The opened door across from him revealed a peek into a disconcerting sight. Newspapers littered the floor in a jumbled, matted mess. A smattering of blood was strewn across it, trailing from a door in the corner of the room, contrasting sharply against the black and white background. Akira glanced down, recognizing a familiar face printed in ink on the cover.

 _Shido_. That man’s face was one he could never forget.

A piercing scream from below drew him from his thoughts and had him jumping like a startled cat. Against his better judgement, he ran after it. Bounding down the stairs, he caught the tail end of an argument.

“Without you, he might have still loved me. I thought a child would make him stay, but all you’ve been is a burden to me.” A woman’s voice lamented.

Something heavy crashed to the ground.

“You have no room to talk about burdens. How could you do that to a child?” Akira rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs. A woman in white stood with her back facing him, long dark hair draping over her shoulders. Red stains seeped across the fabric. There was a slight shimmer to the air in the room.

Across from a fallen cabinet, looking torn and angry, was Akechi.

Akechi’s attention briefly shifted to him, as his eyes flickered to Joker standing at the bottom of the stairs. He gawked. Confusion crossed his face and he stumbled out his name. “Akira?” It was more of a question of why he was here and less of an acknowledgement of his presence.

With the utterance of his real name, the woman turned to the side. Dark, empty eyes stared at him. Her head lolled to the side unnaturally with an eerie look that gave him goosebumps.

Akira blinked, and she was gone instantaneously. This was weird- weirder than a talking cat or personified psyches. Akechi was silent. He looked uncomfortable and unsettled. Akira finally noticed that like himself, he was dressed in his Metaverse clothes. Only this time he wasn’t wearing the black mask. He was in the guise of Robin Hood from when they worked together.

At length he asked, “Are you okay? “

“Mostly.” Was all the older would give. His mouth pulled into a tight line.

Joker saw right through this front. Neither of them were calm. “Okay, good. But what the hell was that?” They might have fought demons and cryptids, but ghosts? That was a step too far even for the leader of the Phantom Thieves.

“It was nothing. We need to find a way out.” The lie fell from his mouth without hesitation. If only he knew that the half a year Akira spent with him made it so he could see through these obvious lies. “Hell, if I’m going to let this bastard get the best of me because I refused to be a tool again.” The latter was muttered angrily under Akechi’s breath.

Akira let the lie slide because Akechi was right, they needed to find an exit.

Akechi breezed through the building, which if Joker had dwelled on it was suspicious. Akira followed. If it wasn’t for that strange room and ghostly figure, he would have thought this was reality. The next door opened to a staircase leading down. “I guess down is the only option.” Akira commented idly.

Akechi didn’t say anything and proceeded to the depths.

This might have been the longest staircase he’d ever walked down. At length and to break up the oppressive silence, Akira started talking. “What you did before- thanks for not abandoning me.”

“It’s not like I could if I wanted to. You’ve made my mind into a mess. I guess you’re the only winner out of whatever the hell that was.”

“Is that all?” He goaded.

Akechi frowned. “Yes.”

That wasn’t true. Akira grinned. “But you know, you look different. Your outfit it’s like the one before…” Military, structured, bright, and completely impractical for a thief. The mask of pure justice contrasted with the distorted chaos Loki brought out of him.

Akechi stopped dead in his tracks. Akira stumbled, catching himself before running full on into the boy’s back. The other paused in consideration, looking at his outstretched white gloved hands like it was something alien. Then he felt the mask that donned his face “It’s not me.” He said to himself.

“It is. I guess your time with us was more impactful than you thought.” At least, Joker liked to think so. Though this fueled the thought that it _actually_ was.

“But why? Loki- that’s my true self. Unless…” The brunette glanced over his shoulder to fully meet Akira’s gaze. His face held a strange emotion that he was try so hard to mask. A light of realization dawned in his eyes, and Akechi shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” For the sole fact that it gave him hope that something in Akechi’s subconscious had changed- that he was able to have some positive impact on this boy’s life.

“Akira.” Akechi’s voice took a stern turn.

“But-“

“Leave it.”

He did, for now.

* * *

 

Akira tugged at the collar of his jacket. The many layers he was wearing were becoming too stifling in this balmy heat. Sweat prickled under his collar. After, walking for what seemed like forever- in part because Akechi clammed up, which brought a whole new level of tension to this place- there was an opening at the bottom of the stairs. It led into light. Akechi made it there first, breaking into a sprint at the sight. Akira matched it, until they darted into the middle of a large room.

The narrow corridor broke open into a cluttered area. Furniture was tightly crammed into the space and toys littered the floor. The walls were darkened with seeps of water damage. Some of the spots were covered with what appeared to be a child’s drawings.

Akira was first taken aback by the sound of voices surrounding him. It was a low whispering of many, muttering strings of words that he could barely comprehend. Although, he could have sworn he heard Akechi’s name.

The brunette’s reaction confirmed it, and he stormed out, slamming a door open. Akira groaned. Teamwork was not Akechi’s strong suit. Before he got too far off he shouted, “Don’t run off on your own!” He broke into a run to catch up to the other, following him down a hallway as he threw open the doors that repeated across the long wall.

The further they got in, the louder the voices grew. At this point, Akira could make sense of some of them.

_You can’t be Red Hawk because he has friends._

_Akechi’s weird. You don’t want to talk to him._

The jeers got under Akechi’s skin. He tensed up, punching the wall hard. Strife and agitation dripped from each word. “What the fuck is this?”

_Don’t tell any of the adults and don’t let him out, okay?_

_Sh. Don’t talk to him or look at him. He doesn’t exist, remember?_

Akira caught up. “Are you okay?” Akechi shirked off the hand Joker tried to rest reassuringly on his shoulder.

“Of course, I’m **not** okay!” Akechi snapped. He hit the wall again. The plaster cracked under the impact. “This is bullshit! I don’t have a Palace. I can’t have one. I checked.”

“So this place _is_ related to you. Isn’t it?”

Akechi wouldn’t look at him, biting out a weak. “Shut up.”

“No. I won’t.” Akira stood his ground. He gestured widely with his arm. “What is this?”

The brunette gritted his teeth. Akira insisted again, if they had any hope of escaping to reality then he needed to know exactly what they were dealing with.

“It’s **nothing**!” The older insisted. “Just some stupid fucking way to get under my skin. Some penance this is.” He scoffed.

So this was his penance. That was a pretty big piece of the puzzle, enough for Joker to recognize that this world was the manifestation of something from Akechi’s past. It explained why he was so on edge and volatile.

However, what was bothering Joker the most wasn’t that they were in some semblance of a Palace borne from Akechi’s mind. No, it was that he’d finally felt like he broke through to Akechi, that night Shido called. Yet this was taking that away. He was keeping secrets, getting angry, and pushing him away- treading back on what progress they’d made.

It worried him.

Akechi walked into an the next room without another word. This one had a different feeling to all the previous ones. It was shrouded in a dense aurora, and the walls were covered in pinned papers of a child’s handwriting and drawing.

Akira could make sense of some of them.

Crudely drawn pictures of knights, superheros, and the Feathermen were stuck to the wall with star shaped stickers, but as he looked lower the images turned darker. A child all alone. A man distorted with red eyes and pointed teeth. A woman covered in red.

Akechi strode up to the wall and ripped through several of the images. He crumbled it in his fist, tossing it to the ground.

He looked around the room, grumbling to himself. He kicked the edge of a bunkbed. It creaked and bowed. “It’s just like I remember.”

A phantom voice resonated down the corridor. Akechi shoved past Akira to get into the hallway, but his arm was caught midway.

“Let go.”

“No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Akechi searched Akira’s face for something- some sign of ill intent. It wasn’t there. He cracked, just a little. “I’ve lived this, okay? Is that what you want to hear? It’s not like it isn’t obvious with all this _Akechi this- Akechi that_ infernal whispering.” He bit out in a mocking tone.

Akira’s gaze softened. The more he learned about the distressed teen, the more pity welled within him. “Yeah, it is.”

Akechi snapped. “Stop looking at me like that! I don’t want your pity, and this sure as hell isn’t some sign of trust.”

“It isn’t?”

“Goddamit, Akira!”

Akechi’s attention was diverted again by the whispering voices.

_Nobody would ever want a boy with that kind of behavior._

_I heard his mom killed herself to get away from him._

His frame shook, from anger or sadness, Akira couldn’t quite place.

“I did so well to forget this. Why show it to me again? What hell is this?!”

“Calm down.” Joker tried and failed to placate the other.

“I- I can’t be calm!” His words came out broken. Darkness flashed behind him- the face of _that_ persona.

 _No_. Not again.

Akira grabbed him by both his shoulders, forcing Akechi to look him in the eye. “Please tell me what’s going on. I only want to help. _Trust in me, Goro_.”  Akechi’s shoulders stiffened as if frozen, and he stopped shaking. His eyes went wide, and his mouth formed words he never commits to saying.  

It melts away in half a minute, and his brows deepen in a furrow. “I haven’t heard that in a long time…” He sounds almost wistful. His voice dropped low. “Why are you like this? Maybe this is why you were always the better Wild Card.”

Joker sees pieces of the façade break away. Revealing itself with the slump in Akechi’s shoulders, the way he gnawed on his lower lip, how his fists clenched tightly, and how his eyes held back tears.

It was the truth of what Akechi was feeling.

He turns away, pretending to be busy peeling a bit of plaster from the wall. In reality, he was reluctant to face Akira. “This is one of the foster homes I grew up in as a kid. I always hated this place. What kind of home was it to come back to people who hated you?”

“That’s what those voices are.” It was the children- none of whom ever liked Akechi, and the adults- who only liked him once he started to fake his personality.

Akechi laughed one of those terrible laughs. “Don’t remind me. This is where I created my Prince Detective persona- I needed it for my own sanity- acting in a way that my caretakers and the other kids responded well to. I hated it. Even still, it didn’t give me what I wanted.”

He tugged another page off the wall, inspecting it closely before tossing it aside.

“Everyone still treated me like shit, but at least I wasn’t ignored anymore. You- you’ve been the only person to be genuine around me. The way you looked at me- talked to me. Treated me like something you gave a damn about even though you knew nothing about me- it was better than anyone else. I don’t deserve it. I could _never_ deserve it.”

His voice cracked. “It almost made me want to be the person you thought it was. That’s when Robin Hood manifested within me, you know. It’s your fault for making me want to be a better person, but I’m too far gone for that.”

“You’re not.” Akira disagreed steadfastly. All the evidence showed that he had changed. The stunt on the ship, his reluctant agreement to help them reform Shido, Robin Hood being his current mask, and this strange shift in their own relationship.

His voice was quiet. “Not everyone can be the hero, Akira. No matter how much I’d like to be, I can’t.”

Akira thought back to the scuffed figure. **The hero**. That was what Akechi desperately wanted- to be recognized, renowned, and respected for his actions and to be loved and adored with attention and praise. The only way he got there was through faking it, and not surprising, it left the void in his heart still wide open.

“It’s not too late to change, and I think you already have. You’ve taken on the façade of Robin Hood over Loki unconsciously. You want to be better. You can be better.”

“You’re making me doubt myself even now. You’re the hero, Akira. The leader, the one everyone loves. Hell, even I-“ He cut himself off. “I’m not like you. Everything I’ve done has been for myself, whereas you’re willing to sacrifice anything for your friends and even people you don’t know. Ha, you’re even doing it now. Everything I’ve done has been, for what, some joke of praise and affection? Even now I can’t break myself of those desires.”

“You don’t have to. It’s part of you. Its normal to want those things.”

He grabbed Akechi’s gloved hand in his, holding it tightly so he can’t pull away. “Goro, I like you. I don’t think you’re as selfish as you let on. If you stopped pretending to be someone you aren’t then you could form bonds with other people. I’m sure the others would give you a chance. At the very least I would, as long as you don’t lie to me anymore.”

“I- I… stop.” He tried to yank his hand away.

“No.”

His voice picked up a tone of desperation. “Why are you doing this.”

“Because I want you to realize that someone in this world cares about you.”

“You keep saying that, but look at me. I’m mess, a murderer, a liar. How could you possibly mean it?”

“ **I do**.”

“No, no, no.” He grabbed the side of his head with his other hand.

“Dammit, Goro Akechi. I really do like you.” Akira repeated.

His denial formed a mantra. Repeating that word over and over again. Akechi fell to his knees. Akira tried to catch him; but he stumbled, a shockwave of power catching him off guard. Suddenly everything felt different. _Wrong_. A heady aura fell upon the room. It felt slimy, and prickled at the edge of Joker’s consciousness.

 _A powerful shadow?_ He really wished Morgana or Futaba were here.

Akechi noticed the shift in the place and looked up at him.

The next thing Joker saw wasn’t Akechi’s dumb bird mask, but the flickering lights mounted on the ceiling.

He yelled, or Akechi yelled. He couldn’t really tell, as something grabbed onto him. He barely caught a glimpse of what latched onto his leg- long tendrils of something organic-ish, like feathers or hair, that glistened an oily black. It looked disgusting. It felt disgusting. Tepid and damp. It dragged him down the hallway, while he struggled to find his knife.

He heard Akechi call out his name right as he was pulled into an open grate.

He broke into free fall. The open shaft led straight down. He fell for what felt like far too long to be natural, his jacket catching and tearing on the hardware in the chute. A quickly cast garu was the only way he managed to not break a bone on impact with the ground. The only casualty was his coat, torn and stuck to somewhere in the ventilation shaft.

Akira grimaced at the darkness that surrounded him and the squelch of something wet and warm underneath his feet. The light emanating from Horus cast a magical glow on his surroundings, revealing a black sludge oozing from the wall.

The distortion was nearly palpable down here. If he had questioned that he was in the Metaverse before, he was sure of it now- left alone in a world of Akechi’s creation.


	5. -.-. --- .-. .-. ..- .--. - .. --- -.

Akira spent far too much time wandering the depths of this place. The damp darkness was unlike the higher floors that bore resemblances to reality. This looked more like something out of one of those horror game Ryuji was too scared to play by himself and often roped Akira into- long dark hallways, dripping with questionable black ooze, with even more questionable organic matter seeping from the floor. It had a metallic scent- not unpleasant but definitely unnatural. The corridor was silent aside from the occasional dripping sound and the echo of Joker’s footfalls against stone.

It was the kind of place he expected to see chains dangling from the wall, colored red with rust or blood- with the dark corners full of the lurking souls of tortured spirits. Akira immediately regretted this train of thought as the sight of a shadowy figure in his periphery made him jump.

It was nothing just his eyes playing tricks on him. His third eye confirmed it, making the shadows a little less mysterious. He was grateful for it- finding it a little ironic that the power Igor bestowed upon him would be what helped him get out of here.

His eyes were drawn down at a sign of movement. A black mass he’d stepped on wriggled wildly from the floor. It bubbled forth like an acid, beginning to take shape. He recognized it.

_A shadow._

It would have disturbed him if it hadn’t been a familiar sight. Killing and negotiating with demons was something Joker knew like the back of his hand. Even alone, he managed to slice through them with relative ease. His movements were on autopilot as he shoved the items the demons dropped into his seemingly bottomless pockets. The- _Woah looking cool, Joker!_ \- he was accustomed to hearing from Morgana echoed in the back of his mind.

It was strange. This was the first normal thing to come from this place. Well, as normal as fighting demons was- and for Akira that was his average Friday night.

Though it left a nagging feeling of loneliness prickling at him. He was always with the rest of the team, but this time he was all alone. Being alone meant he was on edge, senses attuned in the darkness, eyes and ears watching out for any movement. Frankly, it was exhausting to this keep up. 

_Was this what it felt like for Akechi?_

The dingy corridor split into two ahead. Akira stalled. This time he had no navigator to tell him where to go. “Great.” He muttered aloud with complete sarcasm. “This place better not be a maze.”

There was nothing he hated more than mazes. Specifically mazes where every hallway, every turn looked just like the last, which was exactly what he was dealing with right now. Akira groaned, fisting hitting the wall with a dull thud after the fifth identical hallway. This was the last thing he needed right now- not with Akechi somewhere overhead dealing with his own personal hell.

And not with the creature that pulled him down here still lurking around.

He needed out of here. The frustration mounted over the course of an hour. Akira began to use a trick he remembered from some movie, trailing his hand along the wall- cutting lines in the black coating- only making right turns at each intersection.

Akira was about to turn down the next path when a loud noise cut through the silence. A plop of something large falling into water, and then a faint scratching sound- like something being dragged across the stone.

 _Nope._ He turned on heel and took the other path.

He followed it for some ways, but the next time his hand hit the wall he noted a familiar line drawn through the sludge. _He’d been here before._ “Damn.” He cursed aloud, regretting it immediately as the word reverberated down the corridor for a good minute.

The sound of something moving towards him had Akira nearly breaking into a run. He shivered as his third eye prickled with the sensations of a new energy. It was sharp, persistent- clinging to him as he weaved his way through the maze.

Minutes later Akira cast a glance over his shoulder to see a red hue lurking in the darkness just far enough out that he could only make out a blurred form. This time Akira really did run away. The only caveat was that running away with no idea of where he was going only made the situation worse. He turned a sharp corner, leaning on his knees to catch his breath while trying his damn best to dampen the sharp pants that came from him.

_He really should have taken Ryuji up on running more often._

This situation was fucked. He only realized how much so when a dark, clawed hand wrapped around the edge of the wall. He covered the surprised breath that threatened to escape and tell of his location with his hand. As quietly as possible, he slipped down the next corridor. The worry got to him, when he realized the source of that energy was still following him.

_Shit._

A voice penetrated the air, low like a whisper, freezing Akira in place. “Run as much as you like, you can’t escape here.” He bit his lip. He recognized that voice, even under the heavy distortion.

_Double shit._

He wasn’t ready to fight Akechi’s shadow alone.

He stopped hesitantly. The thing behind him did the same. “Akechi.” He called out. From the darkness, he saw two gold eyes blink curiously at him- then laughter.

“Oh. Akira. Akira.” The shadow cooed. He hated the way his named sounded from this Akechi, and hated even more how he jumped when something touched the back of his leg. “Scared? That’s understandable. It seems you have some self-preservation instinct, after all.”

Joker held his tongue, sneaking around the corner.

The shadow admonished him in a nearly bored tone. “I wouldn’t go that way if I were you.”

He ignored the voice. That thing wasn’t going to tell him what to do.

**Wrong choice.**

The first step was his downfall, slipping on slick stone. He fell down a steep incline that he didn’t notice because he was put on edge by the shadow. He skidded to the bottom, back hitting rock. Joker bit out a sharp groan.

A voice came from the ledge he just fell from. “Tsk. Tsk. If only you trusted me as much as you pretended to.” The shadow was teasing him. This was strange. It wasn’t outright attacking him like all the others had before. For now, it appeared to be content with toying with him.

“I trust Akechi. Not you.” He said, trudging to his feet. His voice was sure, but there was an inkling of doubt in his mind. _Did he really?_

“But I am Akechi. As real as the one you seem so hellbent on saving.” A gust of unnatural wind drew a shiver from the boy. He looked around, eyes darting to each corner. He could no longer pinpoint the shadows location. Even with his third eye, everything a few feet away was a clouded blur. It set him even more on edge. The shadow continued, “It’s never going to work, you know. I’m beyond saving.”

“He’s not.” His fingers twitched at his side, readying to grab his knife.

“Really, now? Would you say that if you knew the depths of his desires? The truth he’s hidden from you and even himself?”

Akira paused.

If Mona was here, Akira imagined him saying something like- _Don’t let that shadow trick you. He’s trying to rile you up._ Akira had to admit it was working. He wanted to know- wanted to see what Akechi thought of himself and what distorted desires plagued his heart.

_How else could he help him?_

His heart sped up. Almost on cue the shadow chimed in, amused. “Oh, you’re anxious for that knowledge; but would you be willing to fight me for it?”

**Yes.**

_No. He shouldn’t._ At least not now. Not when he had things he needed to do, and danger electrified the air.

Not when he still needed to save Akechi.

“Sorry, but you’re wrong.” Akira took a step back, hearing the whistle of air behind him.

“You’re lying to the king of liars, Akira.”

Akira was tight lipped. “What do you want with me?”

“Nothing and everything.”

The emphasis on the latter had Joker unconsciously tightening his grip on his knife. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. The ventilation shaft that had fresh air flowing through. His escape route.

With bated breath, he made a break for it- trying to move quickly before the shadow Akechi could react. However, he was blocked halfway by a sheet of ice that jutted from the ground mere inches from his face.

Akechi sighed. “Come now. Don’t you want to help me with that insufferable savior complex you have?” His words held a dark edge. Akira could hear the smirk in his voice. “So help me. Destroy me.”

It was a challenge or a wish- maybe a bit of both given his experience with the detective. Either way, it was something Akira would never agree to.

His brows formed a tight furrow. He snapped.“No. I would never- why do you think I’d ever agree to that?”

 _Fuck._ Was this the depths of his self-loathing that even his shadow sought oblivion? Akira was taken aback enough that he was caught off guard when a great force had him knocked back. He stumbled to regain balance, calling forth Cerberus from his soul.

Another spell came crashing down where Akira stood. His guard was up so it did little damage, but at this rate, he really was going to have to fight the shadow. At least for long enough to plan his escape. The lion demon growled next to him, ready at his side. Joker compelled it to use magic.

The agidyne lit the fake Akechi up, revealing his true form in the fire. Akira blocked the worst of the blaze with his arms, heat hitting him in a tidal wave as the flames licked up the form of the shadow.

 _The shadow._ Akira’s eyes widened at the sight, coughing from the putrid, black smoke that filled the room.

He was struck by just how inhuman this Akechi was- limbs too long, too sharp, hands curled like talons, covered in tufts of black feathers sticking out wildly over his body, swirling with iridescent greens and purples in the light.  He looked more monster than human. The only relic of his humanity was left in his face, but even that was distorted, nearly unrecognizable under the black mask he wore. The red visor was flipped up; his skin too pale and too gray- with wide eyes colored the piercing yellow that all the shadows bore.

Akira blinked, trying to calm the growing sea of unease within him.

_What the fuck?_

A monster… or demon- was Akechi’s grip on his own humanity really that weak that he saw himself in such a twisted, disgusting light?

Akira wasn’t sure if he even wanted to hear the answer to that question.

The shadow smiled at Akira when he noticed the shock that crossed the younger’s face. Akira hated it, hated everything about it. He’d seen that expression too many times on his way to school, in the café, in their hideout- and now it was ruined- tainted by the sinister glint in the shadow’s eye and this awful, terrible place.

Akechi laughed.

The cackle that came from the shadow sounded far too like the one from Shido’s cognition of the boy. It was the same laugh that plagued his dreams. It reminded him of the worst of Akechi and the feeling of hot blood on his hands. It made his stomach drop.

Shadow Akechi swiped through the fire still smoldering. His hands clawed at his helmet. The grin that stretched split his face was all sharp teeth and insanity. “Finally! That’s the rebel’s spirit I wanted to see!”

* * *

 

Akira threw back another Arginade. The bottle was cast aside quickly once its use was gone. His breath was labored now, acidity burning his muscles and exhaustion tinging his every movement. What he wouldn’t give for some moral support right now.

The shadow Akechi still leered at him. The intensity making him balk. None of the other shadows had paid him much mind, but Akechi… he supposed they were linked, and this bled over into the cognitive world.

Leaving him as a prime target for the shadow.

Akira barely ducked out of the way of a strike of eigaon. It caught his left arm. The curse burning black fire through his shirt. He ground his teeth to bear it.

He needed an out. In his state, this was futile.

Akechi cocked his to the side. “You’ve spent so much time trying to bring me back to your side. Can’t you see that it’ll never work? I’ll never be like your friends. The corruption runs too deep. It’s made me into a monster.” The harsh rasps of those words were enough to make the dark-haired boy flinch, but it only got worse. “Don’t think you’re some knight in shining armor. You can’t wrench the darkness from me. If only you knew how much I wanted you- wanted to hurt you, to kiss you, to become you.”

His chest tightened. Was that the truth of Akechi’s feelings towards him? How contorted and complicated they’d become. Akechi had said as much before- the envy, the hatred. But Akira never recognized the depth of them.

The knife suddenly felt heavy in his hands, and he wiped blood from his face. “I’m not your enemy. I don’t want to fight you!”

This time the near demon flinched. His voice cracked. “Why? I could have taken everything from you! Is there not hate that lingers in your heart for what I’ve done? Is there not a little part of you that wants to end me?”

“No. I hate what you did and what you became. But it wasn’t entirely your fault. You were twisted by circumstance and greedy adults- susceptible to people using you because you were deprived of love. I wish I had known this sooner then maybe things would have been different.”

“What could you possibly have changed?” An attack hit Joker head on.

He groaned in pain, his voice taking on a new desperation. “I don’t know. But I would have tried. I’m trying now, and I won’t let you stop me.” The kougaon cast from Horus was blinding in the pitch black. The stun worked better than he thought, or the shadow just had the inclination to let him get away.

Akira suspected the latter because for all his talk- the real and the shadow- deep down Akechi really did want help.

He allowed one last look over his shoulder as he pried the grating of the vent to see those gold eyes staring back at him, filled with a strange emotion.

* * *

 

Akira took in a breath of slightly fresher air as he collapsed onto the floor outside the ventilation shaft. He never thought he’d be happy to see dilapidated walls, blotched with water damage, but damn if it wasn’t an improvement. The lack of the shadow’s presence let him relax even if just for long enough to catch his breath.

He was back in the foster home, or at least he thought he was. The space wasn’t familiar, but held the same look and feel.

First mission: Find Akechi.

While also trying to figure out where he is and while avoiding Akechi’s shadow.

Easier said than done, as Akira didn’t know where to start. He started opening arbitrary doors. Half the doors in this place were busted, missing door handles, or simply locked. For one door, as soon as he gripped the handle, a sharp scream rang through his ears.

It clearly wasn’t Akechi so he let that one be.

He did manage to stumble across one left ajar. Joker peered through the crack. It was dark. Upon further inspection, an elevator sat at the end of this room. An old styled one- all brassy metal and heavy machinery.

What caught his attention more was the floor number lit above it.

**B6**

The levels descended from 1 to 8, with his current location shown as B3. There was a spot after B8, but it was scratched out.

There was a chance that Akechi went this way. After all, what demons, ghosts, shadows, or whatever lurked around here actually used elevators. He called the elevator. The shrill of metal against metal, and the lurching of the mechanisms did not instill much confidence in the Trickster, but not much in this place did.

With a certain amount of trepidation, he stepped in.

The elevator stuttered to a start, creaking under his added weight. Akira took a deep breath as it began its slow descent. Just as he thought it was safe to let out a breath, the car shook and stopped.

“Oh, come on.” He stomped the bottom of the carriage trying to unstick it.

Nothing. He repeated the motion once more, and nothing happened. The third time- there was a metallic screech and a second for Akira to go wide eyed a curse just in time for the car to go into free fall.

* * *

 

Akira barely caught himself in the crash, his saving grace being a tetrakan that absorbed some of the impact from his body hitting the ground. He might have made it out alright, but the elevator was toast.

 _No going back up_.

Akira dragged himself out of the wreckage with a groan. This had to be the longest night of his life. His attention was drawn elsewhere at the sound of rapid footsteps.

He was in a hallway. It almost looked like a hotel- cleaner than the other floor- but still holding that oppressive atmosphere. “Is that-?”  A figure cut across the corner of the hallway.  “Akira!”

“Akechi?” He said with uncertainty. _This wasn’t another cognition, was it?_

His questions were quelled, as the brunette in the red mask came to his side immediately. Wide eyed, he grabbed the injured boy’s shoulders in an iron clad grip. “Akira? Shit, Akira. I thought you-“ One of the Akechi’s hands brushed Akira’s cheek, bruised and likely caked with dried blood. He imagined he looked quite the sight. Akechi faltered, Akira could see it in his eyes before he composed himself. He frowned slightly, as his grip went lax; and he sat back on his heels. “What happened to you?”

Akira bit out a pained laugh. “ **You**.” Akechi was blank. “Or at least your cognition of yourself.” That was enough to get a reaction out of him. The brunette grimaced, breaking away from eye contact; and Akira finally got the chance to ask his burning question, “What the fuck, Akechi?”

“I assume it wasn’t good.”

“That’s the understatement of the year.” Akira scoffed. “You’re a monster. Is that really how you think of yourself?”

Akechi tried to cover it up, but his pained expression was answer enough. “Do I really need to say it?”

It was obviously true. The Metaverse didn’t lie, revealing the truth that people are loath to accept. The reality was that Akechi truly loathed himself. Akira’s lip formed a tight line, eyes glued onto older boy. He was preoccupied with something on the ground because that was more tolerable than facing Akira.

“You don’t.”

Akechi stood up with a, “Thanks,” offering a hand to Akira.

Akira could have sworn his heart skipped at the gesture. It definitely did when Akechi’s warm hand tightened around his own to help pull him to his feet. Akira watched as the other boy turned from him, motioning for him to follow. As Akechi began to walk off, he muttered. “You’re not a monster.”


	6. You are (ir)redeemable

**A monster.**

Many monsters haunted Akechi.

His father, his mother's death, his home life.

 ** _Himself and his own actions_** \- killing those people for his father and attempting to kill the only person that ever genuinely cared about him. It clung to him like a parasite. Every monstrous action worse than the last until it nearly consumed him.

Akira pulled him out of it. In this shitty, unforgiving world, he was a bright light- a little ironic for a thief who tried to live in the shadows. But he was so unrelentingly _positive, friendly,_ and undoubtedly a good influence on Akechi.

Akechi wanted to say it disgusted him, but that was a front. He reveled in the attention the leader of the Phantom Thieves gave him- how it didn’t come with any stipulations or strings attached. He was just a guy who tried to befriend the local detective boy. And a guy who tried although he knew Akechi would betray him in the worst way possible.

Akechi ~~hated~~ _loved_ how it made his chest hurt with yearning to see those clever dark eyes under the thick frames of glasses; to sink into the familiar banter; to hear his short, low laugh. Or how it cluttered his mind with thoughts of the smirking and sly yet way too kind Phantom Thief.

_He didn’t deserve it._

Didn’t deserve the person that stood by his side when facing the remnants of his past- coming back to tear down those walls he spent years perfecting. The same boy who was looking at him with pity and sadness as he stepped into an empty apartment.

It was desolated. A place filled with a creeping sense of dread- the windows grayed out by a dense fog covering the city- if there was a city out there at all.

All these levels, distortions of the places he called home, brought up too many memories. Exaggerations of the pain he felt and the times he suffered. This place in particular was too real, because it was a cold, lonely mirror of his current reality. He hated that Akira had to experience this with him or to see it at all.

The room was empty except for a small kitchenette and a desk shoved into the corner and piled high with files. Akechi glanced them, running a hand over the papers. Police documents, newspaper clipping- all the things he needed to work on the Phantom Thief case. On the corner of the desk was photo.

He remembered that day. After his first ‘success’ as the new Detective Prince. He’d gotten his photo taken alongside the actual detectives at the police station. He was younger then, but he wore the same awful, fake smile that he put on even now. It was all lies- _himself, his life, his relationships_ \- but without the lies this was all he had.

**Nothing.**

Akira peeked closely and noticed the tremor in his hand; he was too perceptive for his own good. Akechi jumped when a hand pressed to his back, in what he assumed was intended as a reassurance. He slammed the frame down on the desk just in time for Akira to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Akechi sighed, turning from the curly haired boy and brushing his hand aside. He grimaced to himself. _Why was he still avoiding him?_ Akira had seen so much, knew how fucked up he was- what was the point of hiding from him? “I guess there’s no point in this anymore, is it? You already know too much.”

Akira looked at him with those irritatingly genuine eyes. “You can trust me.”

 _Trust._ Akira acted like it was something so easy to give. Like Akechi hadn’t spent his whole life pulling himself inward, learning to rely on no one but himself (not as a survival instinct but because he literally had _no one_ ).

As much as he resisted, the truth of it was: he _wanted_ to trust Akira. He was the only person he ever felt like _maybe_ he could.

The dark-haired boy waited anxiously for Akechi to respond. Though the response was lackluster. “I want to. It’s just… difficult.” He pretended to be distracted by some of the files on the desk when the truth fell from his mouth. “I never wanted anyone to see how I lived. This isn’t who I wanted to become. It’s not who I want to be.”

“You can do something about it.”

“I am, aren’t I?” He bit out in a strained tone. “I’m with you.” Even though he should’ve high tailed it out of Tokyo after the incident in Shido’s palace, Akechi stayed. Stayed by Akira’s side, even though he knew better. Part of him wanted the redemption Akira was trying to give him because over those few months- he too had become rather fond of the teen under the curly mop of hair and thick rimmed glasses.

And because Akira gave him hope- in a world that left him devoid of it.

The floor under their feet began to shake, a gurgling sound came from the depths. Akira’s head whipped around to find Akechi’s. There was a new energy in the air- Akechi recognized it as the same power that prickled in the back of him mind when Akira was taken.

Concern crossed the younger boy’s face, his hand clasped around Akechi’s arm. “We need to go.” The brunette’s fight or flight instincts were beginning to kick in- sending his heart and mind racing- eyes darting around the room to come up with an escape plan.

It wouldn’t be that simple. They needed to get to the end of this infernal place. There must be a way out- if it was anything like the palace’s before- which Akechi desperately hoped so- then perhaps there was a treasure at the end of the tunnel.

He remembered something from earlier, when the two were separated and Akechi spent his time sneaking around the demons to get to the lower levels. “The 9th level… I think that’s the last. I heard the shadows mention it.”

Although that brought up a new set of problems.

“The elevators busted.” Akira stated blankly. It sure was. The sound of the metal cage crashing down made him feel something that Akechi hadn’t felt in a long time- fear. Not for himself but for the other boy who’d been lost in this place.

Akechi scoffed. “No, there’s no way it would be that easy- not if this is formed from my mind.” Operating under that assumption, Akechi mulled over things briefly.

Akira was still on edge, bouncing on his heels and glancing at all the entry points to the room. “Any ideas would be great.”

One came to his mind. If it was true then this place was definitely a construct of his mind. “I’ve got one. Follow me, Akira.” He motioned.

Akira followed him out into the hallway where he’d previously found the boy.

The low growl of the demons ricocheted down the hall of the complex, making every step and breath count. The energy was getting more intense, and a throbbing pain formed in the front of his skull.

Akechi groaned but pushed through it.

There was a fire escape connected to the window at the end of his floor. A rarely used metal thing, that most people would look past, but not Akechi because he was all too familiar with it.

It was his backdoor, so to speak, for those late nights and early mornings when he didn’t want to be caught on the foyer or elevator cameras of the building.

Surely enough when he opened the window to the foggy outside- he could make out the bars of the escape. “This way.”

“Are you sure?”

“You can stay here with the demons, or you can follow me.”

Akira held his tongue with a look on his face like he was holding back a sassy comment. Instead of saying it, he nodded with determination.

Akechi swallowed dryly. He wasn’t used to someone putting that much trust in him.

The dense air outside pulled him into a coughing fit- the air hot, humid and almost painful in his lungs. The metal railing under his hand burned, even through the fabric of his gloves. “Careful.” He gave in warning.

The atmosphere was too inhospitable to linger too long so he hurried down the ladder. The catwalk below groaned under his feet and disappeared into the fog. He could hear the sound of Akira coughing behind him. It was hard to see so he reached a hand back- relieved to feel the other boy grab it- a reassurance that he was still there and _okay._

 _Ugh, when had he ever been this sentimental_? Not since he was a child, untainted by the harsh reality of the world. Akira elicited peculiar reactions from him, and made the brunette feel even stranger things.

There was an open window at the end. It didn’t matter where it led. Nowhere could be worse than out here in this unfair, destructive climate.

Akechi went through first- taking a deep breath of the clear air.

* * *

 

  _This place?_ It seemed familiar though in the moment that he crossed its threshold, Akechi couldn’t quite place it. Even the stairs they descended seemed familiar underfoot. It wasn’t until Akechi caught the scent of something acidic and bitter, did he recognize it.

It pulled a frown to his face, his teeth tearing into the skin of his lower lip.

Akira was the first to voice the revelation, as he stopped on the stairs in front of him. “Leblanc?” Akira’s hand tightened on the railing as his eyes searched Akechi for answers.

Answers Akechi didn’t want to give.

Akechi grimaced. Because of course this would come to light as much as he loathed it to.

Thankfully, Akira looked away when Akechi didn’t offer any information.

* * *

 

 The coffee shop was shrouded in a warm glow cast from stained glass lamps. Akechi walked further in, his gloved hand trailing along the familiar wood lacquered countertops.

His eyes fixated on the details- the little things he picked up from on those many afternoons, in which he found himself gravitating towards the coffee shop. The dull bulb that hung in the lamp over the second booth. The scuff on the bar from where one customer dragged their shoes. The coffee splashes against the wallpaper. The one mug hanging above the sink with the chip on the handle- _his favorite_.

Akira was doing the same. Without even looking back, Akechi heard an exhaled, “Why?”

Akechi knew exactly why this place manifested. Though it was something he didn’t care to admit. The expression on his face was empty, but his voice was softer. “You made me feel at home.” His face heated up, coloring it a few shades lighter than his mask. It was almost an embarrassing admission. A sign of weakness. A sign that Akira wasn’t the only one who cared.

He turned around. Akira was still standing next to the kitchen; and the way _he_ looked at him- his eyes round and sad yet sparked with intrigue- made his chest ache.

“I’m glad- as long as the feelings you have about here are pleasant.”

“They are.” His gaze broke away, fixating on the wood grain and how his fingers dragged against it. This was one of the few places that didn’t carry much baggage. The only sadness he felt was because of Akira. Because of what he did- and what he **almost** did- to him.

In the whole café, there was one thing out of place - an unassuming box placed on the edge of the counter. Akira approached it first, picking it up with gloved hands. Right before he opened it a voice came for behind the dark-haired teen.

It was eerily familiar and made Akechi’s stomach sink. His eyes darted up to see a dark figure forming in the doorway by the stairs.

“Oh Akira, Akira. Did you really think it would be that easy?” The box clattered to the floor, and Akira let out a startled gasp.

“No- not really.” The dark-haired teen bit out. He regained composure and jumped into a defensive stance, hand hovering over the sheath on his belt.

They couldn’t catch a break.

Akechi froze. _A shadow, but not any shadow- **his shadow**_. His shadow with its failed farce of humanity and blindingly inhuman yellow eyes. It made him uncomfortable in his own skin; and even though he was seeing this distortion for the first time, it was too familiar.

Akira was right. This was a monster- a disgusting caricature of Akechi’s reality. His distorted face was cut with a grin behind the black mask. Akechi felt lost, though he didn’t hold back the anger that flared in his eyes.

“This… is me?”

The shadow laughed, attention shifting from the Joker to the Crow. The shadow gestured to himself. “Is this not familiar? Is this not how you truly feel?”

Akechi felt sick. Because the that _thing_ was right, and he hated that it was right.

_How many times had he thought he was disgusting- thought he was a monster?_

In recent days, it was too many times to count.

The creature stepped forward, and Akechi matched it with a step back. Akira looked between them, steadying himself as a wall between the shadow Akechi and the real Akechi. He could see what he was trying to do- he was a hero in a room full of villains.

 _Akira_. Akira tried so hard to prove that he wasn’t this. His sheer determination almost convinced the older boy of it, too. Akechi was still clinging to that dream. “This isn’t who I am.” His voice wavered. It was terribly unconvincing; both Akira and the shadow noticed.

“It is though. Don’t you remember? That feeling of twisting- ruining- yourself to please others for meager amounts of praise and acceptance? You let this happen. You were happy to become the perfect tool. As long as you were useful- then maybe someone would love you.”

Akechi faltered. Hearing it from his own voice made it worse.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hands clenched into fists at his side. “It’s not going to be like that anymore.”

“Really?” The sarcasm seeped from the question like a sludge. “Do you think anyone would care- do you think _he_ would care- if you weren’t useful? He’s only here because he needs your power.”

“-the only thing that gives me worth.” Akechi mumbled halfheartedly. He vaguely recalled that day years ago when he’d been bestowed the power of the Wild Card. Everything changed after that. People started to care- only because of the terrible and great things he was capable of.

It was the closest thing he felt to love since his mother’s death, but in the end, it was just as empty as it always had been.

“That’s not true!” Akira shouted. Akechi’s eyes shot open, seeing that boy defending him- like he’d defended him before. It made him feel… what? Relieved, almost _happy_?

The shadow’s eyes bore into his own. “Why are you letting yourself get so attached. It’s holding you back from the power you can achieve, and what good is a tool that’s weak?”

“You’re not weak, and you’re not a tool. You’re your own person, Akechi.”

 _Was Akira even right?_ He spent so long thinking the contrary. His shadow voiced the mindset he was stuck in, but Akira was offering him the future he wanted- one where he was free of this.

Could he free himself  from his crippling desire- the one that made him take the most drastic measures- to please, to be praised, accepted, and revered?

_Could he be something more?_

He groaned. A splitting pain struck through his head. The pain was more intense than last time. His hands gripped the side of his face, tearing at the mask. It felt hot, burning against his skin.

The shadow scoffed at Akira’s pleas. “If that was true, I wouldn’t be here. My existence is proof of how irreparably fucked up he is.”

“No.” Akechi’s knees buckled and hit the ground. Akira rushed to his side, holding onto his shaking frame.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” He managed to get out through clenched teeth.

Almost instantaneously, he felt a pressure against his chest; and the next thing he knew, he was shoved back. He fell onto his back, seeing the cracked ceiling of Leblanc. A loud groan from Akira had him scrambling to his feet despite the vertigo his headache caused. Akira was in front of him, cradling his right arm. Blood stained the sleeve of his shirt as he called forth one of his persona to cast healing magic to stop the bleeding.

His shadow looked far too pleased as he approached, dragging his nails to score the surface of the counter. “Do you really want to do this, Goro? What good is this going to do? It’s not like you can change, after all.”

The shadow clicked his tongue. “Once a killer, always a killer.”

“Akechi, don’t listen.”

“Once a bastard, always a bastard.”

The fake Akechi cocked his head to the side looking at him with a mock sadness. “Once alone, always alone.” The demon moved swiftly, Akira was distracted by the real Akechi and barely had time to react when the shadow came at him. He attempted to block the attack with his knife. The impact of talons against hastily crossed blades, sent them clattering to the floor.

Akechi watched as this monstrous version of himself threw Akira against the wall. One dark hand curled around his throat, and he struggled, kicking and pulling at the feathered arm holding him back.

“He’s a killer. Why would he treat you any different? He’s already tried to kill you twice, I suppose third time’s the charm.”  The shadow spoke to Akira.

Akira’s eyes flicked to him under the mask. The shadow’s followed. “See he won’t even help you. All that talk before was just that- _talk._ ”

What the shadow said before… some of it was right. He had been all those things- even now he might _still_ be those things. But he was wrong about one thing, Akechi would not stand by.

If he did one right thing in this world, it was going to be making sure Akira Kurusu lived.

Akechi’s hand fell to the hilt of his sword. His eyes shut briefly, breath stilled and even.

_Maybe he could be a hero, just this once._

A voice echoed in the corners of the room. “Have you decided to stop hiding behind that mask? Are you finally ready to accept who you really are?”

“What is this?”

“Another persona?” Akira uttered in surprise.  

Akechi did not hear them behind the screaming pain that drilled through his head. His vision sparked like fire and faded, as he wavered on his feet. The mask on his face was searing, hot and intense, against his flesh. His fingers hooked around the edges of it before there was another voice ringing in his ears. “There’s power in being your true self. Are you ready to use that to your advantage?”

There was something new flickering in the back of his mind. It was stronger than who he was before. He rasped a heavy, “Yes.”

“Very well.” The pain was gone, and Akechi stood up straight. “I am Galahad, Knight of the Round. I will be your sword and your shield for as long as your heart remains true.”

 _Truth._ Ha, no wonder he could not awaken to this before. Akechi closed his eyes, feeling a newfound resolve. “I’m not turning my back. Not anymore.”

The mask on his face was pulled free. Blood colored his gloves and dripped down his face as he faced his shadow with equally wild eyes. It looked startled. He smirked. “That’s right. The person you’ve prattled on about is no longer me.” The power flowed through his body, electric like the first time he’d conjured Robin Hood.

Both were thanks to Akira.

Igor had been wrong back in the Velvet Room. This was proof enough that he was capable of harnessing the same power as Akira, without the sacrifice. His hand tightened around the sword at his waist, pulling it free. “Come to me, Galahad!”

* * *

 

 Ice crackled to life, creating a cold breeze in the room, as icicles shot up the leg of the shadow. Galahad finished it with a severe physical hit, making it drop Akira. He went crashing into one of the booths. Akira scrambled, jumping from table to table to get back to a safe distance.

He panted, shooting Akechi a wide grin. “I knew you had it in you.”

The pride in his eyes made him feel warm but now wasn’t the time to get distracted by his feelings towards the other boy. Not when they had a shadow between them and possibly getting out of here.

The shadow Akechi broke away from the ice that encased his leg, lashing out with a physical attack. Akechi guarded, but nothing ever came. He blinked. It _didn’t_ hit him. Galahad reflected the attack and knocked back the shadow with his own sword slash.

 _A high counter._ He could get used to that.

He sneered at him. “You’re going to fight against yourself? How idiotic. Remember that if you kill me, you’ll die too.”

“Who said anything about killing? I just need you out of the way.” A blast of garu from behind, made his shadow crash into the counter. The assorted coffee machines crashed to the floor.

He retaliated with eigaon. The spell crashed through the room, dark power cracking like lightning, striking in every direction. He heard Akira yelp in pain across the way, having to hold himself back from rushing across the room to him. One of the bolts hit him dead in the chest. Though instead of harming him, it made him feel renewed.

The shadow noticed, and his eyes narrowed and matched the awful scowl on his face. Akechi looked at his hands in amazement and glanced to the new persona at his side. “You’re me. You can’t hurt me.”

That infuriated him. “I won’t hold back anymore.”

There was a shift in the air. Akira yelled something at him, but it was lost with his focus on the shadow. A dark power curled around him- it was familiar.

The psychotic break.

It happened quickly, one moment the creature was a shadow of humanity and the next- it lost it all. Laughing the same cackling, villainous cliché as Shido’s cognition of him. _Was this what he looked like to the other Phantom Thieves back in the palace?_ No wonder they pitied him. It was an act of desperation.

Akechi hopped the counter, ducking behind it. Akira did the same, clambering over the dishes to barely evade a megidolan blast that shook the whole building.

“If you know what’s happening, that would be really useful about now.” He hissed covering his head when a lamp swayed and crashed to the ground nearby.  

“I think he went psychotic.”

His head hit the back of the counter with a long, exasperated sigh. “Awesome. Totally great.” He fished around his pockets for a nuclear bomb and tossed it over. The shadow groaned and lashed out. The edge of the counter was crushed under a megaton raid.

“Shit.” Akechi cursed, reaching for his plasma gun.

They were cut off when the shadow screeched, releasing a strong burst of energy. “Get out here and finish this!” The painting by the entrance and the TV fell to the ground.

“He’s not stopping.” Of course not. It was _his_ shadow. His life meant so little before that even dire situations barely phased him.

“I’m going to end this.” Akechi said with determination, his grip tightening around his gun. Akira met him with wide eyes.

Akira’s hand encircled his arm in a death grip. “What do you mean by that?”

“Whatever is necessary.” He cringed when the shelves in front of them gave way, cups and plates shattering on the floor.

“Fuck that. I’m not letting you put yourself or your shadow at risk. Or don’t you remember, if you kill him, you’re as good as dead.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Akira shook his head in disbelief. “No, I’m not letting that happen. Sacrifice is not an option. I’ll deal with this.” He dashed to the end of the counter, leaning against the edge. “Goro.” He spoke, but it wasn’t to him but to his shadow. “Goro! I know you’re still in there.”

His shadow made a strange strangled noise. “Listen to me. We don’t want to hurt you. We don’t have to fight. You’re as real as the Goro here. You’re part of him. That’s not going to change.” Akira stood up, Akechi was half way to him to pull him back into cover before he stepped out of reach. “But the one thing you’re not is a monster.”

He made a show of dropping his knives to the ground.

“Akira!” He hissed. This boy was fucking crazy.

He stepped closer to the shadow. “You don’t want to be this way. Do you, Goro?”

“You don’t know me! No one knows me!”

“I do. I do know you. I understand how you feel,” The shadow screeched something so inhuman that it gave him chills. “-And it’s okay. You don’t have to continue being like this because I know deep down you want to be good.” Akira stopped a few paces from the shadow who was as frozen as the real boy from those words.

Akira smirked. “If you were really as bad as you thought, you wouldn’t think of yourself in this way. This form you’ve taken is proof of your humanity because you know you’ve done wrong.”

Akechi’s shoulders shook and his gloved hand covered his mouth as tears began to stain his vision.

“You’re not a monster. You’re not a demon. You’re just _human.”_

Akira. Akira. Akira. This boy was too much.

He wiped away the regret when he heard a strange sound, something melting away and hitting the floor. He jumped to his feet.

Akira was crouched on the ground, grinning at the shadow. But it wasn’t the form he held before, nor was it a mirror of reality. Instead, it was him as a child. The only reason he knew it was a shadow was those yellow eyes.

“See? I told you.” The kid burst out crying. Akira tried to console him.

Akechi cringed. “Oh god, this is pitiful. I can’t look at him.”

It hit too close to home.

His shadow’s eyes met his, and this time it didn’t make him uncomfortable. It just made him sad, and then he disappeared.

Akira fell to the ground letting out a deep breath he’d been holding in. Relief coursed through his body. “You trust me. You and your shadow.” He was smiling. It was too much for Akechi to process so he had to look away.

“So?”

“No so. It just makes me happy.”

 _Ah_ , he felt several degrees too hot again.

* * *

 

 Akira scrambled to the box from before. It was buried under a pile of rubble. He dug it free, shooting a glance at the brunette. Akechi asked the pressing question. “Do you think this is it?”

 _It had to be_. Otherwise, this place was unescapable; and that couldn’t be the case. Or at least he hoped not. Akira peeled back the top, peeking inside. The look he gave Akechi said it all.

_It was._

“Wait.” Akechi found himself speaking without thinking. He reached a hand out towards Akira who was about to open it. “Please.” The word was a broken breath. All his façades fell away in the moment, leaving him as the vulnerable and messed up boy he’d become. He hated the way his voice cracked in this moment. “Don’t take it. I-I don’t want you to have to fix me.”

Akira nodded.

Akechi was relieved that he understood.

“Akira.” The name felt heavier than it had ever been. He closed his eyes briefly taking in a deep breath. He smiled slightly, but there wasn’t happiness behind it. It was melancholic and sad when he said, “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t all me.”

“No, but I wouldn’t be here without you.”

He shouldn’t do this, but he would hate himself if he didn’t. His hand brushed the collar of Akira’s shirt, hesitantly.

He almost stopped there.

The intense gaze from those gray eyes made him anxious, but he held steady. His heart beating rapid in his chest. “I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do.” Akechi cast the words aside, and Akira lost his breath when lips pressed to his own. It was chaste and brief, leaving a lingering taste on his mouth and tingling on the skin where they touched. Akechi’s eyes fell from his face.  “Whatever happens, I wanted you to know how I honestly felt.”

It was one of the handful of honest things, he’d done in recent years.

But it was kind of a relief to get it out in the open, and he wasn’t sure if his change of heart would change his feelings too.

And Akira had the right to know.

Akira placed the box in his hands, fingers brushing over his own. “Thank you.” He muttered, sounding rather relieved himself.

It was so mundane. _How appropriate_. Even his treasure was hidden like so many things in his life. He looked at it thoughtfully. “Stealing my own heart? How bad could it be.”

It was a joke and a poor attempt to cover up his nerves.

“It’ll be okay, Akechi.”

“I know. I know.”

He opened the box. “Ah.”

A red helmet. Not just any red, helmet- child’s toy helmet of Red Hawk from the Feathermen.

It seemed more appropriate for Akira to be the true hero, but maybe he could start to live up to this by helping the Phantom Thieves reform the world.

He took the helmet in his hands. The air around it held a slight shimmer. “Now what?” Akira asked, even though Akechi wouldn’t have an answer.

He didn’t need to because the world around them quaked, and the front door was blown off its hinges, revealing a swirling abyss.

* * *

 

They weren’t supposed to make it out of the Metaverse.  

Akechi spent several long years twisting himself, breaking his psyche to turn himself into something heartless and cruel. His awakened persona power coupled with the distortion that tainted his soul meant that this shouldn’t have been possible.

But this trickster is full of surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wrote this in Akira's POV but it was **not good.  
> **  
>  Anyways, since I struggled on writing this chapter I actually have most of the last two written out so expect quicker updates.  
> (also you don't want to know how much time I wasted trying to pick that persona boooy)


	7. Home is with(out) you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ready for the sap train

Akira awoke to cold air and the dull hum of his space heater. He was buried under a pile of blankets on his futon- groggily opening his eyes to the dim light of dawn. His head ached. _Was that all a dream?_ Based on the creaks and groans of his body- not to mention the cuts and bruises- it had definitely been real.

If it was real, then Akechi-

_Akechi._

His head whipped to search the room, but there was nothing.

He scrambled out of bead and downstairs to the café. The front door was left ajar. The cold, crisp air of the winter morning blowing it open. Akira’s heart hammered in his chest, as he grabbed a jacket off the coat rack and ran after him.

It was early- like 5 am early- and snow had just begun to fall. The only people about were businessmen heading for the station and people beginning to open up their shops on the main street.

The cold cut through Akira’s pajamas, leaving his skin stinging under the fabric. He pulled his wool coat tighter around himself but didn’t stop.

He was more concerned about the boy whose heart had changed overnight.

He ran through the streets, scouring the alleys and shops for the sight of the brown-haired boy. When he got to the edge of the district, he saw him- across the street and heading down the stairs to the station.

“Goro!” He yelled across the street. The other froze, shoulders stiffening. The other boy neatly avoided his gaze when he ran to him. His voice was full of concern when he asked, “Goro, what are you doing out here?”

“I need to leave. You shouldn’t be around me.” His face was red from the cold, but given his reddened eyes and the sniffle in his voice, it seemed like he’d been crying.

Akira pulled Akechi to him in a hug. Akechi barely moved. He was freezing dressed only slightly more appropriately than Akira in his school uniform. “Yes, I should. You’ve got to be freezing come back with me. Please.”

He pushed himself from curly haired teen reluctantly.

“Akira, this isn’t a good idea. After everything I’ve done, and what I’ve done to _you_ -“  

Akira shook his head. He didn’t want to risk leaving him alone, at least for the time being and after all the things he heard about the other’s whose hearts they’d changed. Somehow having the other boy stay with him in Leblanc quelled some of his worries.

Akira took his hand, it was so cold. “Please.” He repeated with desperation.

Akechi broke and let himself be led back to the coffee shop in silence.

Akechi stood in his room looking at the helmet he’d brought back from the other world. It was sitting on Akira’s shelf, next to all the trinkets and sentimental things his friends had given him.

Akechi must have place it there.

“What was it all for? How can I live with what I’ve done?” 

It made his heart wrench, so much that it almost caused him physical pain. “Don’t say that. Hey, _Goro_ , look at me.” He did, and Akira felt his heart both flutter and sink. Akechi was so distraught. Akira could tell he was trying to hold it together, but his eyes made everything crystal clear. “Help me. You have the chance to save lives not take them- to use the power you hold for good now.”

He hoped that a sense of purpose would help.

Only time would tell.

Akechi went solemnly silent for a long time. Akira let him be for a while, going downstairs to brew some coffee to cut through this cold.

When he returned Akechi sitting on his bed, staring out the window and watching the snow fall with his shoulders covered in his blanket.

“Hey.” Akira said softly, slowly edging himself onto the bed to sit next to the boy.

He handed him a cup. “Thanks.” Akechi murmured lowly, eyes now glued to the swirl of milk in the cup.

“How are you doing?”

“Terrible, obviously.” Akechi gave him a weak smile.  “Don’t look at me with those sad eyes. You’ve done so much. You just need to give me time to process this.” He took a sip, and looked at the mug thoughtfully. “The taste of coffee reminds me of you now. You’re always making it, drinking it, and every time I see you in the city the scent lingers on you.”

Akira felt warm, and it wasn’t from the drink.

“I bet I taste like it too.”

Akechi’s skin turned a soft pink. His eyes widened slightly, and his gaze dipped lower unable to look away from the younger boy’s mouth, “Ah.”

Akira couldn’t believe he said that, but the effect it was having on Akechi was well worth it. The tension was heavy, Akechi set his cup on the window sill. His hands pressed into the mattress as he leaned a little closer. Akira edged his hands closer so his fingers grazed Akechi’s.

“Tell me to stop.” Akechi whispered. His voice and eyes restraining emotion.

“No.”

Akira leaned halfway, watching the inner turmoil on Akechi’s face. He breathed shallowly waiting for the brunette to close the short distance between them.

Akira closed his eyes. He felt Akechi turn his hand over- the older boy’s fingers entwining with his own. He was trembling slightly. Akira’s heart sped up. There was a breath of warm air against his cheeks and then it happened.

Akechi’s mouth sealed over his own- lips warm and soft, bitter like dark arabica with a little sweetness from a dash of sugar. He sighed against Akechi’s mouth, hand moving up to his neck. He could feel the rapid pulse of the brunette beating against his fingertips, as his lips moved against his own.

“Goro.” He muttered, lips brushing softly at each syllable. His hand tightened in the hair at the nape of Akechi’s neck in an attempt to deepen it. Because he wanted- no needed- more.

This had been a long time coming, and they were alive. _So alive_. And here in the present, real world.

Akira relished it.

Almost as much as he relished the kisses placed along his jaw, soft but needy. Akechi’s mouth burned hot against his skin, like a flame licking up a wick and setting his skin afire. His hands twisted roughly into Akira’s shirt, pulling him as close as humanly possible. Akira shuddered against the hot breath on his neck as the brunette buried his face in his shoulder.

It felt… damp. Akechi shook in his arms, holding back the sound of a sob. Akira’s expression softened. He was crying. His fingers curled into long brown hair, trying so hard to be a reassurance.

Akechi pulled away, mumbling out an apology under his breath; but Akira pulled him right back in. He brushed Akechi’s long bangs aside pressing his lips to his forehead, mumbling sweet meaningless things.

Akechi fell asleep wrapped in his arms. Akira didn’t dare to budge- content to watch the peace that came over his face in sleep and fascinated by the long lashes that dusted his cheeks. Like this, Akechi was downright adorable. His hand brushed a few strands of hair from his face.  

His chest tightened. Before and after the change of heart, Akechi still had feelings for him. It was a relief and saved him from the disappointment of an unrequited love.

_Love._

Shit, it was true.

It had always been true.

Since their meeting in the TV studio, where he earned the curiosity of the detective boy. From that moment, Akira was enamored. It was persistent feeling even as suspicion stained their every interaction.

Rightfully so when the boy turned traitorous, yet still Akira couldn’t help but feel like there was something more there- he saw it in the little interactions, in the little smiles, and in lonely eyes. And knowing that this whole time, Akechi had been suppressing the same feelings- it made him feel warm.

The boy next to him was definitely and surely his first love.

_Boy, he was never one for the easy route, was he?_

But in this moment, he was happy.

Akira buried his face into the back of Akechi’s shoulder- closing his eyes and focusing on the warmth of his body and the steady breaths of the boy next to him.

* * *

 

Akechi stayed.

It was met with equal parts sympathy and suspicion. Sojiro, in particular was suspicious and questioned the safety of having someone like that staying at Leblanc full time. Akira did his best to assuage their worries. For Akechi’s sake, as well as, for his own.

Plus, it was nice that neither of them had to be alone anymore.

Morgana came back a night later. Akira saw him and Akechi talking after he’d closed up the shop.

“I treated you poorly. You tried to help me, but I tossed it aside. I don’t think apologies can cover what I did to you and the rest of the Phantom Thieves, but I thought you deserved one- even just as a formality. I am truly sorry.”

“You were angry and sad, and didn’t belong-“ Morgana’s tailed curled around himself. Akira busied himself to pretend that he wasn’t eavesdropping. “I guess I can sympathize with that. But you’ll have to earn back the trust you lost.”

Akechi nodded quietly.

Morgana added in a hushed tone. “Don’t do it again, and don’t you dare break his heart.”

One day after Mementos, Akira caught him speaking with Haru alone. This time he didn’t eavesdrop.

* * *

 

They changed Shido’s heart. Though in reality, it didn’t change much.

He was still going to be elected. The country was still on the path to corruption. It ate at everyone in the Phantom Thieves that changing Shido’s heart wasn’t the golden ticket to a better society.

It ate at Akechi the most. Akira thought he’d be furious, but that time in the Metaverse dampened some of the hatred that had festered over ten years. Instead he was left with some resentment, sadness, and disappointment.

Then everything they knew was thrown on its head.

Akira put the pieces back together. The things that went wrong. The imposter that sat in the Velvet Room.

Suddenly what had transpired a month earlier made sense. Too bad the imposter didn’t anticipate Akira’s relentless kindness and charm and how that would impact Akechi’s disposition. It was enough to make Akechi doubt his view of the world- to make him see that the place wasn’t so irredeemably terrible that it only deserved destruction.

And while they fought their way to the depths of Mementos, Akechi was fighting by their side.

Then they found the Holy Grail and everything went wrong.

Or so he thought.

* * *

 

Yaldabaoth and the old Akechi were wrong.

The people proved them wrong. The world was worth saving, and the world **_wanted_ ** to be saved.

Seeing Tokyo perverted by that other world bleeding over made Akira worry. Before with the Palaces, he was so confident in what they were doing and the solutions seemed so easy. Now he was left with uncertainty, but also resolve.

Because no one could fix this but him.

The people’s hope gave him more power than he could ever imagine, drawing forth the ultimate strength from his soul.

And in the end, he- along with his friends and the support of Tokyo- killed a god and restored the world to what it once was.

All in one **long night**.

* * *

 

It was Christmas Eve. The weight of the literal world had been lifted from Akira’s shoulders.  But there was a new one that settled there- over what he had to do to ensure Shido’s conviction.

Akira was distraught.

He’d saved the world, broke free from his chains. Yet in the end, he had to willfully put them back on. This wasn’t to say, choosing to testify and reveal himself as the leader of the Phantom Thieves was a difficult decision to make.

In fact, it was the opposite. With Shido’s conviction and his friends’ freedoms hanging on the line, it was simple. Though it didn’t’ assuage the inkling feelings of sadness, when he knew he was seeing his friends for the last time in a long while.

Or when he stepped through the door of Leblanc and saw Akechi already waiting for him there.

_That one hurt the most._

Akira put on a grin. One that under careful scrutiny would crack. “I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.”

“And leave you alone on _Christmas Eve_ after saving the world?” Akechi’s spirit was lighter than he’d ever seen. His lips quirked up into the semblance of a small smile. It wasn’t lost on him the way he emphasized the holiday- the _couple’s_ holiday. “People may not know of what you did in order to give you thanks, but I do.” For once in his life, Akechi wasn’t wearing gloves so when he took Akira’s hands in his own, the younger’s boys skin lit up like a string of Christmas lights. “Thank you, Akira.”

His breath stilled; and the longer Akira stared those reddish eyes, flushed skin, and curled mouth, the more he realized how much he wanted to kiss this boy.

“Goro, I-“

His words fell flat when the moment was ruined by the clacking of claws. Morgana hopped up on the counter, and the two pulled apart instantly. He swished his tail, scoffing in a chiding tone, “Euyuck. Could you warn a guy when you’re going to be all lovey-dovey? I’m outta here.”

Akechi bit back a chuckled as the cat bolted out the door.

“Will you come upstairs with me?” Akira cringed. It sounded less suggestive in his head than it did out loud. “You know, to talk, watch a Christmas movie- that stuff.”

And maybe just a little bit more.

 _That stuff_ was the most domestic thing Akechi had ever experienced.

Akira fixed hot chocolate this time, adding some festive snowman marshmallows he picked up at the store on the way back. And he sunk into the couch, the space heater pulled close as Christmas movies played on repeat on his TV. It didn’t take long for him to sink back against the other boy, leaning against him- head resting on his shoulder. Akira didn’t realize this at the time, but little moments like this and something as inconsequential as having someone to spend the holiday with meant the world to the older boy.

It was nice and comforting, and he wished that they could stay like this. Akira knew he was lying to himself, teasing himself with something he could not have. But for one night, he wanted to pretend he was a normal high school student in a normal relationship.

When the clocked turned to midnight, Akira finally decided to bite the bullet on what had been eating at his mind since the day Yaldabaoth threw them in the Metaverse.

It was unfair- to himself and to Akechi. He’d spent a long time making selfless decisions. This time he decided to do something selfish.

He moved away to turn off the TV, and sat back on the couch facing Akechi. The other boy looked at him curiously. It was obvious he had something to say.

 “We’ve been through a lot together, and I’m really glad you stayed tonight. But there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Akira took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you.”

It was a relief when it was out in the open.

“What?” Akechi nearly stuttered in disbelief.

“I love you, Goro.” Akira smiled. “Or do you need me to say it three times?”

Akira could see Akechi processing this revelation on his face- from confusion, to comprehension, then to shock. The shock had his cheeks turning bright pink. It was too adorable. “N-no. You don’t need to.” He stammered before regaining composure. His voice after was smaller. “I don’t know what to do with that. It’s all ever wanted.”

Love and acceptance, and here was Akira offering him both.

Akechi’s face was warm against the hand that cupped his cheek. His eyes flicked to Akira’s under thick lashes, and Akira closed the distance with a kiss. A few minutes later he pulled back with a sly grin, straightening Akechi’s collar. “Merry Christmas.” He joked.

Akechi laughed a breathless, warm laugh that had Akira feeling way too many things at once (enamored was on the top of his list). “You’re too much. I’ll never understand you.” His gaze met Akira’s, holding a newfound warmth and a sadness. “I’m so glad I met you in this lifetime.”

“Me too.”

Akechi’s hand closed over his chest, pulling at the fabric of the sweater he wore (which so happened to be one of Akira’s). “You’re doing it again.” He choked out. Akira could feel the rapid fire of his heart pumping when he reached to grab his wrist.

Akira thumbed small circles on his arm, as his bumped against Akechi’s. “Doing what?” He challenged with a smirk.

Akechi’s mouth was pulled into a tight line. “Being kind and self-sacrificing.” Then he sighed, letting go of what he was holding back. “Making me fall for you.”

* * *

 

Akira woke up to an empty room, and the sound of his phone- incessantly buzzing against the silence of the morning. He yawned. His first thought was, _boy its cold_ , and the second was, _where’s Akechi_?

There was no sign of the older teen. His things were gone. Akira looked to his phone, and his stomach dropped. Messages from his friends flashed in his inbox.

**Makoto: Read the headlines, now.**

**Haru: Are you doing alright?**

**Ryuji: Dude, did Akechi really do that?**

What they were talking about was blaringly obvious when he clicked onto the first news app and was assaulted with various clickbait headlines.

**_Detective Prince Moonlights as Phantom Thief Leader_ **

**_Leader of the Phantom Thieves and Famous Teen Detective Revealed to be Masayoshi Shido’s Illegitimate Son_ **

The rest of the titles were variations of the same three big pieces of information. Akira’s mind was sent reeling.

_That’s what last night was about._

That’s why Akechi waited, why he let himself be devoured in a sweet moment. It was the same thing Akira had done- trying to make the best of the last time they could be together for a _long_ time.

**Before he turned himself in.**

He was going to do that. That’s what he and Sae agreed to- Akira would turn himself in and in return Shido would be sentenced and his friends would remain free.

But no, Akechi had to go and do the same **damn** thing.

He wasn’t content trying to sacrifice himself those other times for Akira’s sake- he had to go all out on this one.

“Goro, that asshole…” He choked a shaking breath, as he gripped his phone in tight, trembling hands. He so desperately wanted the words on the screen to be lies. His heart wrenched in his chest, and he was brought to the edge of tears.

And **he** hadn’t even said goodbye.

Or so he thought.

An hour later, when Akira finally managed to pull himself from his stupor- he found a note placed under the notebook near the stairs. It was written in a refined, neat handwriting- one that Akira immediately knew was Akechi’s.

**_Akira,_ **

**_I want to start with thank you, and I’m sorry I left without a goodbye. It was easier that way- for me at least._ **

**_I could tell last night that you were thinking of doing the same thing I was. We’re too much alike in some respects. But I couldn’t let you do that. You deserve that time with your friends being free and happy. You’ve done everything for the world and for myself. I thought I could at least give you that._ **

**_Niijima spoke with me yesterday. It’s impossible to be charged with murder since all the assassinations were done in the Metaverse. So this is the only way I can serve some time as punishment- even if it’s for your actions and not my own._ **

**_I’ll gladly take on that burden._ **

**_Maybe this time, in some small way, I can be a hero. Of course, I’m not like you. But I can dream, right?_ **

Akira’s shoulders shook and he could feel the tears running down his face. _That asshole, taking all the responsibility onto himself!_

**_Don’t blame yourself for any of this. You’ve done so much. I will be forever grateful._ **

**_And please don’t cry._ **

It was too late for that. His vision was blurred with tears, and his hand crumbled the paper at the last line.

**_I love you._ **

Akira hated this. Hated how things came full circle. He might have brought Akechi back to the light, but the boy was still lost to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically the end, but there is going to be an epilogue bc I am not terrible.


	8. Epilogue P1: Time does (not) stop

Akira yawned deeply, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he waited with the morning rush to get on his train. His job started promptly at 7 am, situated just early enough that he could make it to his first university class by 1 pm. Even though the scheduling worked out, there was never a morning where his body didn’t fight him on it.

This was no exception.

When the train doors open, his feet moved out of habit. The salarymen filled the car after him, as he grabbed the bar above his head- watching the people flow like a river through the subway station.

That’s when he felt his heart stop.

A guy, talking on the phone and getting onto the train across from him, with brown hair, reddish eyes, and a face he thought he recognized.

In a split second he was wide awake, a gasp coming out broken and sharp.

_It looked so much like him._

He blinked, brain still processing what he was seeing.

_It couldn’t be… could it?_

The woman’s voice over the intercom reminded people to stay clear of the doors, and in that moment, Akira decided to act. He shoved past the businessmen, cramming himself through the gap of the door just in time to step back onto the platform.

His eyes darted quickly over the faces in the other train- trying desperatelyto prove to himself that he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating from sleep deprivation.

He saw _him_ , yawning and absorbed in something on his phone.

His heart wrenched from the other side of the glass. It **really** looked like him.

The train started to move, and so did Akira.

He ran all the way to the next stop, hopping the turnstiles and earning the yells of the attendants. The next station was filled with people that he weaved and shoved himself between, running down the escalator and trying to get to the platform that the train would stop at before it left.

He made it just in time.

The doors were open and were people filing out. Akira’s eyes were glued to the windows- searching for that familiar face.

It was gone. There was no one there that looked like the guy he thought he saved years ago. Akira’s shoulders slumped, his face falling.

All this, and now he was late for work.

* * *

 

The morning was still on the forefront of his mind. Throughout his shift while taking orders and pouring drinks, his mind was elsewhere. The daze persisted through the day, and he found himself zoning out during his International Policy class.

How crazy was he that he was seeing people who weren’t there?

Was he really that sad? _That desperate?_

* * *

 

Makoto met him for dinner that night. Her days were busy, and he wished he saw more of his friend. But there was only so much you could do about police training- that was the kind of thing that ate at your time and left you exhausted afterwards.

Makoto was amazing though, she pushed through it with such resolve. Akira was doubtful he could do the same.

“Akira.” Her voice was stern, and it brought him out of his thoughts. He blinked- he hadn’t realized he’d been staring out the window of the bar they were in. His focus shifted to Makoto’s face. She was frowning. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem pretty out of it.”

“Ah.” Akira hated wearing his feelings on his sleeve. He took a long drink.

“Don’t drown it in beer. Tell me what’s wrong. That’s why you invited me out, isn’t it?”

His forehead dropped to his arms crossed on the table. “Maybe.”

It was, of course, true. Makoto was a centering presence like no one else. After today, that’s exactly what Akira needed. She sighed. “Come on, Akira. I’ll figure it out whether you tell me or not.”

He peeked up to see the brunette waiting. Even though Makoto wouldn’t judge, he was reticent to share. The words felt heavy on his tongue. “I thought I saw Akechi in the station this morning.”

Makoto froze and an awkward silence formed between them before she spoke. She started slow, nearly hesitant. “There's something I've been meaning to tell you.” Her fingers tapped against the table, and she took a long look around the bar before leaning in to tell him with a low voice. “He was released a couple of years ago.”

Akira felt like air had been punched out of him.

The glasses on the table clinked when his hands slammed down. “And you didn’t think to tell me sooner!”

“I didn't know how to bring it up.” She snapped back. A look of guilt passed over her face, and he felt his own for yelling at her as he sunk back into his chair. “I only learned through Sae recently, and she's been quiet about it because apparently he asked her specifically not tell you.”

He _wanted_ this?

Akira’s face twisted, hands tightening into fists on the table.

_That asshole._

Or at least, that was his first overly emotional response.

If he dug a little deeper, it would have made sense. This is what Akechi thought was best for him. He’d said as much before- wanting Akira to move on- to live out a free, happy, normal life after all that **abnormality** during his second year of high school.

But who said his so-called normal life had to be devoid of Goro Akechi?

Makoto’s expression was soft. “It’s a bit of a relief. I’ve felt terrible keeping it from you.” Her hand touched his arm in reassurance.  “You might not be crazy. He could still live in the city.”

“It could’ve been him?” It was purely rhetorical and entirely too hopeful.

“Yeah.” Makoto nodded. Her tone shifted as a furrow formed between her brows.  “Akira? Are you crying?”

“Am I?” His hands grazed his cheeks. He hadn’t noticed it, but it felt wet and hot. The realization made it really sink in, and he couldn’t stop it.

Makoto paid their tab and hustled the crying university student out of the restaurant.

Her arm was wrapped around his shoulders as she made sure he got home safely.

“I’m so sorry, Akira.” She said.

“Don’t be. Thank you for telling me.”

* * *

 

He had trouble sleeping that night.

Too many thoughts. Too many hopes.

His real hope though, was that reality wouldn’t disappoint him.

* * *

 

Akira’s attention was easily drawn from the drone of terms and dates that were listed out in his textbook. He pulled out an earbud and glanced up to see a familiar girl. Her blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail. She grinned setting down the box that was in her hands on the table.

“I came bearing gifts. It’s about time for a break, don’t you think?” He nodded and matched her grin, setting down his pen and highlighter. She took the seat across from him. “Makoto told me you’re having a rough time and that I should be nice to you. Not like I’m not nice to you all the time, but today I’m feeling _especially_ nice.”

She opened the box to reveal and assortment of sweet pastries. He chuckled. He was pretty sure that Ann thought sweets could cure just about anything.

“Thanks.” He mumbled between bites of some chocolate stuffed confection.

She hummed in approval before leaning a little closer, concern crossing her face. “You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to… but-“

Ann wanted to know.

Makoto didn’t tell her, which was incredibly respectful on her part.

Akira sighed between bites.

“I thought I saw Akechi the other day.”

“I don’t want to sound rude, but are you sure? There’s plenty of pretty boys with long brown hair around here.”

“That’s what I thought too, but Makoto told me he was released.”

Ann choked on her drink. “Wait. What?!” Her hand hit the table, before some other studying students shot her a glare; and she switched to a hushed tone. “Are you serious? For how long? And _here?_ ”

“Yeah. For a couple of years. And I’m not sure. It’s possible. I swear I saw someone on the train that looked just like him.”

She sunk into her chair. “Damn. Pastries aren’t going cut it. I feel terrible. I'm sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s still nice.”

“Ha.” She bit back a frown and her blue eyes went serious all of a sudden. “I know it’s been years, but do you still have feelings for him?” She asked, and Akira felt clammy.

His silence was enough of an answer.

Her face fell, and she looked at him with such pity. “Oh, Akira.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s _not_ okay.” She responded. “Ever since **that** year?”

Akira’s textbook was looking more and more interesting now. “Yeah.” His affirmation was small although the implications were huge.

She took the longest sigh he’d ever heard, before letting out a strained laugh. “You know that means we both dated each other senior year because neither of us could be with who we wanted to,” Ann commented wistfully. “High school was a mess, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair to you.” Nor to any of the people he’d dated since. Most had been kind, sprinkled with a few scummy significant others’ that had at least been a learning experience for him.

He stopped dating a year ago. Akira thought he’d get over _him_ eventually, but he never did. He could never return their feelings in the way they wanted, and it left too many people with broken hearts. Akira hated it because he knew the pain of a broken heart all too well.

Ann forced a smile, falling back into her chipper attitude. Akira didn’t mind that it was forced. He needed a pick me up. “Don’t worry your little curly head about it. I did the same thing to you.” Her hand met his briefly, reassuring and warm. “If you need someone to talk about this with, I’m your girl.” She smiled softly and nudged his arm.

He’d never understand what he didn’t to deserve the kind of friends he had.

“Thanks, Ann. You’re the best.”

* * *

 

It felt like this week was the longest of his life. By the time Monday came he was exhausted from his busy thoughts and royally fucked up sleep schedule.

But then something finally happened.

* * *

 

 The steam from espresso maker was warm and humid against his hands. His mind might have been elsewhere, but the repetitive movements of making drinks had been ingrained in his body from years of working part time jobs in cafés.

He was pouring milk into a cup when he heard _that_ voice.

It made him freeze for a moment, at least until he heard the clatter of glass crashing to the floor and felt the hot splash of coffee on his legs. Akira looked down to empty hands and to the pitcher of milk and the shattered coffee cup on the floor, and then back up to cashier who was staring at him.

But more importantly to the customer whose wide eyed shocked matched his own.

“Kurusu, are you okay?” One of the other barista’s asked, but it was all white noise to him in that moment.

He found himself stunned, but the name fell from his mouth on instinct. “Goro?”

The other guy’s shoulders stiffened. It was the first time, Akira could really _see_ him. The brief passing in the subway didn’t suffice.

This guy was taller than the Akechi he knew before. The difference in their height was more noticeable now. His shoulders were a bit broader, jaw a bit sharper, hair somewhat shorter- still left long but above his shoulders now. But he still had the same sad eyes that Akira recognized from the boy he knew years ago

Akira watched him as a deep furrow formed him his brow. His mouth moving like he was grasping for words he couldn’t quite get out.

He looked _torn_.

Then the brunette turned quickly and walked away.

The bell on the café door twinkled when he left.

Akira blinked once before he was in action. He looked to his co-worker, pleading in his voice. “Please, _please,_ cover for me. I _have_ to go.”

“Oh, um, alright. I can tell the manager you’re sick.” He shoved his apron into her hands and hopped the counter in one go- darting out the front door as fast as he could.

Out of the street he saw the guy duck into an alley a building down. Akira chased after him, turning down the same alley to see him leaning against the wall with a gloved hand covering his mouth.

“Goro?” His reddish eyes jumped to Akira's and then he let out a shuddering breath as his hand pulled away.

His head leaned back and hit the wall just as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me, Akira.” He breathed out in a strained tone. Even his voice was different- a little rougher, a little deeper than before. But then again, it’d been _five_ _years._ Things changed. Things had to change.

But he couldn’t help the feeling of butterflies at hearing the sound of his name from Akechi once more.

He wanted to hug him, and more than anything kiss that sadness off his stupid, pretty face. But Akira held back. Instead he tried to keep his emotions in check, giving a measured statement. “You’ve been back. But you didn’t tell me.” Akira’s eyes burned. He was **not** going to fucking cry. “Why?”

“I wanted you to move on.”

His blood felt hot in his veins, and his limbs trembled. “What?”

“I thought it would be better for you to live out your life- normal and happy.” He paused with a self-deprecating smile- one that Akira was all too familiar with. “I’d just complicate things.”

“No, no, no. I don’t want that. I would never want that.” He approached him slowly. Each step feeling like he was still an eternity away. His hand grazed Akechi’s arm and the other guy nearly pulled away, but Akira wouldn’t let him. “I’ve always wanted _you_.”

“Akira,” His hand cradled his head, pushing his still long bangs out of place. “Fuck. Still?”

 _Still…_ those few months they spent together that year were ones he could never forget. Nor would he ever want to, and the feelings it brought out of him…

They were always there.

Even now.

Akira frowned slightly, dragging himself away. He crossed his arms. “I don’t think this is a conversation we should have on the streets.”

He held out his hand expectantly, and Akechi reluctantly passed his phone over. Akira made quick work of typing in his contact information and address. “Come by my apartment tonight, alright? I have a million things I want to say, but I need time and a better venue to get it all together.”

The brunette nodded silently.

“Don’t bail on me.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Akechi pulled himself together, straightening his clothes and his hair, giving Akira one last long look that made him feel things he hadn’t felt in years. Before he was completely out of sight, Akira got in the last word. It was quiet, almost under his breath; but by the way Akechi’s step stuttered, he heard it too.

“I missed you.”


	9. Epilogue P2: Try to live a normal life

Why Akira went back to work after that, he did not understand. Maybe it’s because his mind was on the fritz. Work was a routine his body knew well, and while his mind was bogged down with this new revelation, his feet were leading him back to the coffee shop.

The whole thing left a strange taste in his mouth after finally coming face to face with Akechi after all these years.

He could not quite place his feelings. There was joy from being reunited with the guy he helped, who fought alongside him, and the same guy he fell for over those 6 months. There was sadness- borne from the nostalgia of that familiar face and knowing that nothing was the same at it was 5 years ago.

And frustration. Frustration at Akechi, who he blamed for keeping them apart. Whose idea of what was _best for him_ was painfully misconstrued. Frustration at himself because just a fleeting glimpse of **him** made his chest seize up.

Which is why Akira found himself sliding to the floor against the wall of the back room at his work, a box of paper cups and lids falling with him from shaking hands.

He really was a mess.

“Kurusu?” One of the other barista’s peeked through the door to see him. Akira hated it because he could only imagine how he looked- especially after the scene he made in the shop an hour earlier. She caught glimpse of him on the floor. “Shit, are you alright? I mean you’re obviously not but-“

He cut her off with a strained tone. “Sorry, I’m trying to get myself together.”

She rushed next to him, crouching to pick up the things he dropped on the floor next to him. “Is this about what happened before with that guy? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“Yeah.”

“He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

 _Other that taking and breaking his heart?_ Akira immediately shook his head. “No.” He crossed his arms over his knees, leaning his forehead against them to stare down at the tile. “We were friends. Ah… more than that really. I haven’t heard from him in years, and I-“

Akira was oversharing, but she was listening closely. Her mouth formed a quiet, “Oh.” She stood up. Akira’s gaze followed as she offered a hand. His knees quaked when he was pulled to his feet. “He’s important to you.” She stated, and he confirmed it with a nod. “Go. Get yourself together. Do whatever you need. We can cover it here. Unless making drinks and dealing with customers if your kind of coping.”

She gave him a reassuring smile.

He took the offer.

The first thing he did when he got home was call Ann.

“WHAT?!” Akira held his phone away from his ear at the exclamation of his friend. Ann broke into an excited albeit concerned rant. “Are you okay? You have to tell me everything! How did it happen? What was he like? How did he react?”

“Woah, Ann. Slow down.”

“Sorry. I’m just really excited. I know how much it means to you, and I really hope this goes well.”

Akira laughed quietly, and he explained what happened.

Akira could almost hear her frown through the phone when he finished. “I know your hopes are high, but be careful okay? I don’t want you to end up hurt again.”

“The thing is… I invited him over tonight.”

“Akira!”

“To talk! Just to talk, I swear. We didn’t have time to get into it, and I really _need_ to hear how he feels and…” His voice broke off. The phone shook in his hand. “I need to know _why_.”

“I hope you get those answers, Akira. If he breaks your heart again, let him know I will personally kick his ass.”

Akira almost laughed, but was stopped by the uncertainty of reality.

_Because he hoped so too._

* * *

 

The reality of it was weird.

The time Akira had to mentally prepare for this moment did nothing to assuage the nerves and emotions for when he saw Akechi standing in his doorway. _Goro_. It almost took him a moment to realize this was not a dream- that the hesitant, anxious boy (he supposed man now) whose eyes brightened when he opened the door was, in fact, the real Goro Akechi.

It made Akira balk, and for a moment he forgot all words. The first thing he cobbled together was a weak, “H-hey.”

Akechi matched it, “Hey.” A small smile formed on lips as he was invited into Akira’s apartment. It was a humble thing- a studio on the fifth floor in a neighborhood a few blocks from his university. A small kitchen flanked the entrance and the main room was packed to the brim with things. Ryuji and Ann had jokingly called him a hoarder with shelves of tightly packed trinkets and photos from the past 6 years- all accumulated from his friends and places they’d visited.

Akira leaned against the wall, noticing how Akechi’s eyes darted to take in the space. His eyes focused on the red helmet, perched on the top shelf. He frowned. “I didn’t think you’d keep it.” He commented at length.

Akira almost scoffed. How could he _ever_ get rid of Akechi’s treasure? It was the only thing Akechi had ever given him, and beyond the sentimental value of that, it had so much more meaning.

He shot back, “I didn’t think you’d come.”

The brunette’s head dipped for a moment. “I thought about it.” The mention made Akira’s stomach drop. “But… I couldn’t do that you, and I’ll admit this is something I’ve desperately wanted.” It was obvious that Akechi was restraining himself with his words, his emotions, even his movements in this space (because even this space was **_too_** Akira). Whether it was Akira’s sake or his own, he could not tell.

Akechi’s brown eyes met his. He couldn’t hide the loneliness and longing that lingered there. It was so much like the teenaged Akechi, and Akira’s world shook. Suddenly, he felt like the same love-struck teen he was years ago. Akira’s breath staggered as his cheeks flushed. His mouth felt dry when he opened it to say something, but Akechi beat him to it.

“I missed you too, Akira.”

And for now, that was enough.

Akira’s eyes stung and his vision blurred with tears that had yet to fall. That one sentence was enough to set his heart aflame. Every feeling he’d tried to stamp down for Akechi over the years welled up and overflowed. He smiled beneath the tears that fell freely now.

“Akira?” Akechi’s brows furrowed in concern, or at least until Akira wrapped his arms around him, burying his embarrassing, crying face into the older’s shoulder. Akechi stumbled for a moment- the gesture dragging a short gasp from him. He could hear Akechi’s heart, beating in a rapid fire in his chest. Only a second later, Akira felt his arms tighten around him. “Akira. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He mumbled against curly black hair.

Akira allowed himself to dwell in the moment- if only for that long. It was a comfort Akira was unused to. Sure, he hugged his friends but this was different. Very different. Because every breath and every detail had him spellbound. The warmth of the body pressed against him, the scent of fresh laundry that lingered on his collar, the hands that tugged slightly at the fabric of Akira’s shirt, and the breath that ghosted warm against his ear.

It was only an errant thought that pulled Akira’s mind away.

_Why?_

Why had he asked Akechi over in the first place? What did he want to know?

**Why?**

So Akira jerked away, shaking himself from his stupor. Akechi’s touch burned hot against his skin, calling him back but he resisted the urge. He started softly, “Why. Why did you do this? Any of this?” His voice broke into a slightly higher pitch that made Akechi cringe. “Do you know how it felt? Not knowing what happened to you for _years_?”

“It’s what I thought was best for you. That’s why I convinced myself to do it.”

Akira hated that answer so much. “Everyone else keeps trying to decide what’s best for me. What about what I want?”

“It had been over _3 years_ since I last saw you, Akira. You were in college. You had friends. You were dating someone else. I thought you were _happy_. How could I ruin that for you? I’ve ruined too many things in my life. You’re the one thing I could not stand to taint.” He gnawed at his lip, and guilt weighed him down. “But I did anyways.”

“Fuck, Goro. You didn’t _taint_ me.” Akira snapped. This was getting louder and more heated than he’d have liked, but his emotions were on high. “I saw you through your change of heart. We killed a god. Saved the world! _I loved you_.”

It was a low blow, and he could see the effect it had in Akechi’s eyes. Th brunette recovered after a moment, taking on a more even tone. “That’s all the more reason I did what I did. You deserved normalcy and happiness. I was in prison. Nothing normal would come from being with me. I thought you could grow to love someone else.”

Even now, looking at him- Akira’s heart wrenched. It was filled with all feelings that had been cultivated over their short stint together. Akechi was so broken back then- he could still see some inklings of that broken boy in the man in front of him- in the guilt that plagued him and the love he’d fruitlessly ignored for the sake of Akira’s _normal life._

“I didn’t want to. I _don’t_ want to.”

Akechi’s eyes went wide, and he exhaled. “Why?”

Wasn’t it obvious? Or was Akechi having such a hard time believing that Akira could still love him after these years. Akira’s grin was a sardonic half smile. “Even though you put me through this bullshit. I still feel the same way.” His squeezed his eyes shut, working up the nerve to ask the question he cared the most about. “Do you?”

Akechi’s breath caught, and he tugged at his own sleeve. A torn expression contorted his face. When their eyes met, he mouthed the one word that would make Akira melt.

“Yes.”

And he did melt.

A small, “Oh,” fell from his lips.

He spent so long trying to forget this boy, that having him right in front of him and _still in love with him_ , was almost too much to process. It was exhilarating and infuriating. Akira had every right to be mad, yet at the same time, his mind clung desperately to that sincerely uttered yes.

Akira’s hands gripped the side of his head. His gaze lingered on Akechi’s face. It was just as distraught and confused as his own. He tore himself away and collapsed back a chair at the side of the room. His hands covered his face as he mumbled out, “I don’t know what to do.”

Akechi crouched in front of him, peering up under long bangs. “What do you want to do?” He asked.

“Be with you. But I’m still mad at you.” At this point it was more forced- that he _should_ be mad at Akechi. He was, but mostly he was relieved and happy.

“I know, but if that’s really what you want… we could give this a second chance.”

 _A second chance_ … Akira’s experiences with Akechi had been full of second chances. What was one more? He paused for a long while- long enough for Akechi to get nervous. Before peering past his fingertips, “I think I’d like that.”

Akechi sighed in relief, pulling himself to his feet. “This isn’t how I thought it would go. I thought you’d punch me, hate me for it, or be completely over me. This is more than I ever dreamed of.” Akechi’s smile was weak. His hand pushed back a stray curl that covered Akira’s eye. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Me too.”

_So so much._

He leaned down, hands placed on top of the arms of the chair. Akira looked up, and a warmth filled him because Akechi was so very close. There was a slight playful glint to his eye. “Is this too soon or-“

Akira didn’t let him finish, yanking him down by the collar to crush their mouths together.

And he thinks it feels better. Better with Akechi falling into him, knees and elbows knocking and body pressing awkwardly into him. Better with his lips against his own, stifling each breath and low noise.

It definitely felt **right** \- like the piece of him that was missing was fitted back into place.

It felt like too short of a time when Akechi finally pulls away, a little breathless and more than a little overwhelmed- wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and straightening out his clothes.

He smiles, and so does Akira.

* * *

 

Afterwards, they talked for a long time. About everything.

What happened between those years. What changed, how they’d changed.

How Akechi got through those years in prison. How they gave him a lighter sentence due to his age, the circumstances, and his testimony against Shido. It pained him to hear it, knowing that part of the reason Akechi did it was for him; but since then, things had been getting better. Sae helped him once he got out, using her connections to give him a recommendation for a job at the Kuzunoha Detective Agency; and he’d been working there for the better part of two years.

Akechi wanted to know how the other Phantom Thieves were doing, which Akira eagerly obliged in.

Him, Ann, and Ryuji were in university in the city- with Ryuji attending a smaller college in another part of town. Futaba had recently moved out of Tokyo for school. Her social anxieties had been improving, and he knew Sojiro was so proud. Yusuke was touring around with the art collection he created after taking down Yaldaboath. Makoto graduated early and was busy training for the police force, while Haru’s been working hard- training and preparing to open up her own café.

Morgana was around. He came and went as he pleased- disappearing to get into all kinds of mischief then popping back into their lives at a moment’s notice. He always had a place to stay with Akira.

“What about you?” Akechi had asked, leaning his head on his hands.

“Me? I don’t know… it’s the same that I’ve always done. Going to work, going to school.” It was a habit he was so used to at this point. The slow lull of a _normal_ life.

Akechi threw a wrench in it, but it was a wrench he needed.

* * *

 

They started dating- for real this time- and fell into a normal routine, _well_ as normal as anything was between them. It was weird to think that there was a point in his life, where the guy who blushed when Akira tried to hold his hand, had been plotting to kill him.

Or that he’d been scared to get close to anyone.

Maybe they both needed this.

* * *

 

A thunderstorm wasn’t in the forecast when Akira decided to invite Akechi out to the park near his school; but by the oppressive, dark clouds that hung overhead, it was going to be their reality.

“I think it’s time to go.” Akechi stated, watching the clouds roll in.

Akira shrugged apologetically. “Yeah, sorry about that. Let’s hurry before it decides to open up.” He didn’t want to part with Akechi’s company quite yet so he added quickly, “My house is closer than the station, we can lay low for a while.”

Akechi nodded in agreement.

It wasn’t long until thunder cracked and the rain started. Akira yelped before snatching the other’s hand in his own and breaking into a run. He sprinted along the sidewalks, weaving them between the sea of open umbrellas.

By the time they covered the three blocks back to his apartment, they were soaking wet and laughing. Akechi grinned as Akira wringed out his shirt and pushed back his drenched mop of wet bangs. Akira glimpsed that smile, and its beautiful- purely _happy_ and he thinks it’s the first time he’d seen Akechi this way.

Akira’s heart thrummed a little harder, and he’s grateful he gave up the glasses because they’d be fogging up right now.

The AC in his apartment cut cold through his wet clothes. He was pulling off his shoes when he said, “You can borrow some of my clothes, and I can fix you something warm, if you want?”

“I wouldn’t pass up an excuse to have coffee made by you.”

Akira chuckled. “I always add a little extra love just for you.” He teased, casually winking over his shoulder, but as he turned around he noticed a shift in Akechi. His gaze was heavier than it’d been before, and his fingers grazed his mouth, stifling down the emotions that threatened to come from him.

It was too tender, too casual; and it might have wrecked Akechi a little to realize this was what he’d been missing. _And this was what he now had_.

Akira gasped, when a cold hand brushed his cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “You’re too sweet, Akira.”

He almost sounded sad but there was a longing that lingered there. Tension formed with Akechi’s gaze lingering on his face. It was a tension Akira recognized. _Akechi was going to kiss him_. He could feel it in the air between them. His hands tugged at Akechi’s sleeves, that clung wet to his arms and stepped a breadth closer. Akira swallowed dryly, unconsciously licking his lips in anticipation.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” He goaded under half lidded eyes. The moment it fell from his mouth, Akechi obliged- mouth sealing over his, hands gripping and pulling him closer, devouring each gasp and breath like there was nothing else.

The hands that buried themselves in Akira’s hair and his shirt were a blessing, as was the moan he pulled from the brunette when Akira nipped at his lips only to throw his arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. His tongue pressed insistently into the other’s mouth as he melded their bodies flush together. A sharp groan escaped Akira when his back hit the door; and he let out a short laugh, looking to Akechi who was left glazed over and panting.

But Akira wasn’t one to talk because the sight of Akechi like this- with want in his eyes, shirt clinging tightly to his frame, and invading his space in every way- put him in much of the same state. He wiped the spit from his mouth. “Damn, Goro. What’s gotten into you?”

Akechi’s forehead pressed to his, and their eyes met in a way that had Akira struggling to catch his breath as his stomach twisted. “You did. It’s always been you.”

Akira smiled. His hand curled around the nape of Akechi’s neck to close the distance. “And you said I was sweet-” He joked, punctuating it with a chaste kiss. He tugged Akechi against him, placing his hands to his waist, as his own popped the buttons of the brunette’s drenched shirt. His mouth followed, dipping down his collar to lick up droplets of water against his skin. The close contact made the cold dissipate, creating a balmy heat between their bodies.

Akechi breathed sharply, when Akira’s knee bumped between his and muffled a groan with the back of his hand. His mouth formed a sly grin against Akechi’s chest. _Oh_ , Akechi was feeling this more than he thought with the start of a hard on pressing against his thigh. Akira’s cheeks felt warm, but that same desire coiled in him too.

For a moment, he took pause.

 _Was this too much too fast?_ He’d waited years for this. Created so many scenarios- some elaborate and sweet, some fast and hard, in which something like this would _finally_ happen, and now it finally could become reality.

He shot a glance to Akechi, whose face turned entirely too red as he stumbled out, “I’m sorry- I didn’t-“ He was embarrassed. Akira wasn’t in the least, and his eyes went wide when Akira’s hand slipped lower to his waist. “Akira?” He gasped as Akira palmed the front of his pants.

“Don’t apologize. Its fine.” Akira reassured and nipped at his ear. The warmth of his breath brought goosebumps to Akechi’s skin. His other hand settled on Akechi’s lower back, urging him to rock into his palm. “Better than fine actually.”

“Shit, Akira. You-“

“Shh.” A small smile played at Akira’s lips. He had to bite his tongue to keep the teasing to a minimum. Akechi’s hips bucked against him hard when his hand curled around the outline of his cock through his pants. His head fell to Akira’s shoulder with strained breath.

The short moans and the feeling of him warm and needy did things to Akira. It set his blood on fire, and made him way too eager to please the guy who was flush against him. Akira got a little forward, fingers undoing buttons and pulling down the zipper before they teased against the warmed skin just above the waistband.

Before he could make his move, Akechi caught his wrist. “Akira.” A sad, disappointed expression must have crossed his face because Akechi’s eyes softened. “Don’t think that I don’t want to. It’s just-“ He pulled away slightly, but those few inches felt like a mile. Akira’s arms fell to his side. “I haven’t done this before.”

Oh.

 _Oh._ Akira suspected, but it didn’t register until this moment.

Imprisonment, seclusion, loneliness, and a hesitance towards physical contact.

It made sense.

He tried to hide the disappointment in his voice. “It’s a lot at one time. It’s no big deal if you don’t-“

Akechi stopped that train of thought immediately. “No, that’s not what I meant.” A hand covered his face as he was reticent to say the truth. “I want to be with you. To touch you, to feel you, to sleep with you. I just…  thought you should know.”

Akira’s hand cupped his cheek. It was hot under his touch. Akechi’s eyes closed as he leaned into it. Damn if this wasn’t cute, and damn if he didn’t want to give Akechi everything he wanted.

“Thank you for trusting me.” Akira’s voice was a little hoarse when he managed say, “I want to do something for you.”

“Oh? _Oh._ ” The realization took a moment to hit, though the blush staining Akira’s face and the heat in his eyes should have been enough for Akechi to tell, but he threw in a half smirk for good measure. The brunette chuckled, though there was a nervous tinge to it, when he teased, “You’re incorrigible.”

Akira winked, entwining his hand in the other boy’s and leading him further in. “You like it.”

The back of Akechi’s knees hit the bed hard. Akira loved the cute, surprised look that crossed his face when he fell back, dragging Akira down with him by the collar of his soaked t shirt. Akira breathed for a moment, palms holding him up from the bed and gazing down at Akechi. The glint in the brunette’s eyes and the curl to his lips looked hungered. It was satiated when he kissed Akira _hard_ \- rougher and more desperate than he had before- legs locking with his own and hands tugging off Akira’s offending shirt.

“Goro-“ The name on his lips was drowned out by a moan from the other, who moved to bite above his collar - tongue tracing and sucking the same spot. At the same time, a knee pressed to Akira’s crotch grinding against his cock in a way that had his teeth clamping down. And Akira wanted to ask- _are you sure you haven’t done this before_ \- because Akechi was hitting two of his weak points at the same time, and it was maddening.

“I always wondered what you would sound like-“ Akechi grinned against neck. Akira felt 1000 degrees too hot because _shit_ it’s almost a confession that the brunette had jerked off to him before (not like he had any room to talk).

“Hah~” He breathed heavily, and Akechi’s teasing was silenced with a warm hand sliding down the open front of his shirt, trailing along his stomach and into his opened pants. “You won’t be needing these.” Akira mumbled, trying to help him wriggle out of the clinging fabric, leaving him in just a shirt and his _very_ tented underwear.

Akira swallowed. Younger him would have lost his goddamn mind to have a half-naked, hard Akechi in his bed; and older him wasn’t doing much better.

Akechi frowned slightly at his staring and from the lack of contact. “What is it?”

“Nothing. You’re hot. I was taking it in.”

“You have all the time in the world for that, and I thought you were going to do something for _me._ ” Akira stuck out his tongue, taking the chance to quiet Akechi’s complaints with a sloppy kiss and a hand down his briefs. The older moaned into his mouth as he pulled Akechi’s dick free.

Akira’s fingers curled around it, dragging slow strokes up the shaft that had Akechi bucking up into his grip. The brunette’s arms, wrapped around his neck at that, smothering him into a kiss and biting against his lips with each stroke. His thumb swiped the head that was already damp with precum, and he pulled away.

A small grumble welled from the guy underneath him. “Patience~” Akira cooed jokingly, as he sat back on Akechi’s thighs- breathing sharply as he palmed himself through his jeans, undoing them to relieve some of the pressure.

Akechi was almost biting through his lip watching him; and he looks so wrecked- hair messed up and sticking in every direction, eyes wild and intense, what remained of his clothing with strewn open in disarray with his dick curling upwards flushed and dripping. It’s enough to make Akira’s dick twitch, and the younger to bite back a moan behind the back of his hand.

His hands fell to Akechi’s thighs, as he moved back, pushing them apart. He dared a glance up. He’s a little nervous. He might talk big game, but he can’t help but worry he’ll screw this up and Akechi won’t want to talk to him again.

It’s a stupid worry, because Akechi looks at him like he’s everything (which is simultaneously the most wonderful and terrifying feeling).

“Tell me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” He muttered, as he dipped between Akechi’s legs. His lips grazed the other’s inner thigh, trailing light kisses there. Akechi quivered, muttering out his name; and Akira realized he liked this.

_Liked it a lot._

He sucked and spot that would surely leave a mark on his thigh- fingers ghosting teasing, featherlight touches across his balls and his shaft. Akechi wriggled, trying to drive himself to a more satisfying touch. Akira realized he was being unfair, but being unfair was so much _fun_.

The brunette’s legs wrapped around him, heels digging into his shoulder. “Akira.” His name was a strained complaint. He’d done a good job working the other guy up, and Akira would be lying if he said he wasn’t vying for some release now too.

“I’ve got you.”

He took Akechi in hand, breath blowing warm over the sensitive head- making the brunette all the more anxious. Akira smirks once, before sliding the head of Akechi’s cock past his lips. Akechi made a strangled sound, one that has Akira humming in a pleased tone. The reverberations only intensified the pleasant sensation of his mouth on the brunette’s dick.

His cock was hot and heavy on his tongue, parting his lips further as Akira worked to slide his mouth down the shaft. Akechi’s leg twitched under his hand and he looked up under thick lashes. Akechi’s breathing was labored, chest rising and falling quickly, as he bit into his hand, eyes glued on the guy going down on him.

He blinked when Akira’s eyes met his and cursed.

Akira pulled off. His hand slid easily over his slick cock, stroking him evenly even when his mouth was gone. He dared a little teasing, tongue darting to lick at the precum beading at the tip, and sent a lascivious smirk Akechi’s way before taking it again until just the tip filled his mouth, stoking the base with his hand before sliding back down.

He kept this rhythm until Akechi began to squirm under his hands, and the brunette tangled in his hands in black curls. Akira let out a muffled noise around his cock. His hands urged Akira to move faster, meeting the slight cant of Akechi’s hips with his mouth, driving it further it wet, warm heat.

Akechi sighed into each motion, hands tightening as each time Akira edged himself lower taking more and more of Akechi into his mouth until he reached his limit. It seemed Akechi was close to that too, as he struggled to get out Akira’s name. “Ah- I’m gonna-“ Akechi’s hand pushed against his forehead, trying to urge Akira off.

And he did. Akira’s pulled off with an obscenely wet sound. The brunette’s hips stuttered at the loss of contact. Akira’s lips glisten with a mixture of his own spit and cum. Those same lips curled into a smile. He practically hummed, never taking his hand from stroking Akechi’s shaft at an irritatingly slow pace. “Cum? _Please do_.” His voice dips to a headier tone. “I want you feel good, Goro.”

And Akechi breaks apart because for once in his life he’s so sure that he’s _wanted_.

Akira swore the groan from those words were louder than the ones from him actually sucking his dick. The other sounds he was making weren’t helping Akira’s situation and neither did the heated, wet cock in his hands- with his own uncomfortable hard on pressing tight against the opened zipper of his pants.

Akira bit his lips.

Akechi’s hand met the one Akira rested on his thigh. In a tentative motion, he twined their fingers together. _Sentimental much?_ He would have joked about it, if it didn’t leave his heart feeling so warm.

Akira took a strained breath, mouth meeting his flushed head and swallowing as far as he could a few more times, before Akechi’s shaking, hand tightening in his grip; and his mouth is filled with a warm liquid. Akira sputtered a bit as he pulled away finally, wiping his mouth.

Akechi pushed himself up to his elbows staring at Akira wide eyed and a little slack jawed. “Akira? You… fuck.” Was detective boy’s eloquent response while caught in his post orgasm daze.

All Akira could do was groan. Akechi looked so pretty like this, blissed out and breathless. It coiled the heat in his stomach even more, and he fumbled with his pants trying to give himself some relief.

Akechi was on him, insistent and pushing his hand away. “Akira, let me.”

It was better- _way better_ \- than his own because Akechi’s hand was soft- probably because he wore those gloves all the time not that he was complaining- with more slender fingers. He groaned into Akechi’s neck as his aching cock was finally given some attention. Holding back for that long, made the first touch all the more intense and he practically jumped into Akechi’s grasp, moaning out his name.

“Goro.” He rasped.

“Shh.” The other teased, stroking him from base to tip in a fluid motion. His hips rocked steady into Akechi’s palm. Each curl of his fingers and pull of his wrist earning small gasps and moans against his skin.

Akira squeezed his eyes shut.

Akechi’s free hand grabbed his chin, angling it upwards, and stroking his thumb along his jaw. He opened his eyes to Akechi’s dark ones, and Akechi leaned in and kissed him. Only this time it feels a little different, a little sweeter and softer. Akira’s body jerked against the hand on his cock. It felt tight, electricity coiling sharply in his veins. It was only a moment later when he felt like he was seeing stars, coming in hot spurts in Akechi’s hand and on his stomach.

He sighed into the brunette’s mouth, shoulder slumping until he’s almost entirely leaning against the older. Akechi wiped his hand on his shirt, steadying the younger against him.

“I should be thanking the weather.” He mumbled, and Akechi laughed shortly.

“I should be thanking you.” Akechi’s arms are around him, and he felt the heat of his body pressing to every expanse of his skin. “I love you.” Akechi whispered against his hair.

It occurred to Akira that this is the first time he’s heard him say it out loud. His eyes tingled, water blurring his vision. He blinks. Once. Twice. And suddenly there’s warmth on his cheeks.

Akechi caught his face between his hands, thumbs grazing his cheeks and wiping away tears. His expression is soft. It makes Akira’s chest hurt, and he bites out, “Shut up, Goro. I’m not crying.”

Akechi kisses his cheek. His forehead. The corner of his mouth. “I know.”

“I still love you.”

“I know that too.”

Akira felt impossibly warm, fulfilled, and at home with Akechi in his bed- like this was always were they were supposed to end up. They were, after all, forever tied together by fate, and it gives him hope that maybe they could make up for the time they lost.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading !!  
> ✧⁺⸜(●′▾‵●)⸝⁺✧


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